Rosalinda's Life
by Koolkat1573
Summary: My name is Rosalinda Selene Potter, Daughter of Hecate and James Potter, Step-daughter/Half-Sister of Lily Potter, A Heroine of Olympus, Girl-Who-Lived, Goddess of Wiccan Magic, Girlfriend of Luke Castellan , Mother of Cleopatra Black and this is my Life.
1. The Girl Who Lived

**I do not own Harry Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K. Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter One – The Girl Who Lived**

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Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense. Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley acted like she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be well that was her cover story anyway. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small daughter, too, but they had never even seen her. This girl was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.

When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair. None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window. At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. "Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house.

He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive. It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar - a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen - then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back.

As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive - no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day. But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes - the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdoes standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt - these people were obviously collecting for something ... yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills. Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open- mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at night-time. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more.

He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery. He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch was whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying. "The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard yes, their daughter, Rosalinda" Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it. He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialling his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking... no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name.

He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a daughter called Rosalinda. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his niece was called Rosalinda. He'd never even seen the girl. It might have been Ruby or Roxanna. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister which he didn't know was an act she put on. He didn't blame her - if he'd had a sister like that... but all the same, those people in cloaks... He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door "Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!" And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off. Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw - and it didn't improve his mood - was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes. "Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly. The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behaviour? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife. Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: "And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin.

"Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?" "Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early - it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight." Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain. Owls flying by daylight. Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place. And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters... Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Err - Petunia, dear - you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you." As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry on the outside but inside her mind was racing. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?" "Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..." "So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley. "Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... her crowd." Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their daughter - she'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't she?" "I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.

"What's her name again? Roxanne, isn't it." "Rosalinda. Nasty, common name, if you ask me." "Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree." He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something. Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did... if it got out that they were related to a pair of - well, he didn't think he could bear it. The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley.

The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind... He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on - he yawned and turned over - it couldn't affect them... How very wrong he was. Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known." He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again - the next lamp flickered into darkness.

Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it. "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked. "My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly." "You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall. "All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no - even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense." "You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours." She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?" "A what?" "A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of." "No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -" "My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name. All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense - for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name." "I know you haven't, said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of." "You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have." "Only because you're too - well - noble to use them." It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs." Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?" It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now.

It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer. "What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are - are - that they're - dead. Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..." Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder.

"I know... I know..." he said heavily. Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's daughter, Rosalinda. But - he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little girl. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Rosalinda Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke - and that's why he's gone." Dumbledore nodded glumly. "It's - it's true." faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little girl. It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Rosalinda survive?" "We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know." Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch.

It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?" "Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?" "I've come to bring Rosalinda to her aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now." "You don't mean - you can't mean the people who live here!" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Rosalinda Potter come and live here!" "It's the best place for her," said Dumbledore firmly. "Her aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to her when she's older. I've written them a letter." "A letter." repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall.

"Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter. These people will never understand her! She'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Rosalinda Potter day in the future - there will be books written about Rosalinda - every child in our world will know her name!" "Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any girl's head. Famous before she can walk and talk! Famous for something she won't even remember! Can you see how much better off she'll be, growing up away from all that until she's ready to take it?" Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes - yes, you're right, of course. But how is the girl getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Rosalinda underneath it. "Hagrid's bringing him." "You think it - wise - to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?" "I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to - what was that?" A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky - and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them. If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?" "Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got her, sir." "No problems, were there?" "No, sir - house was almost destroyed, but I got her out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. She fell asleep as we were flyin' over Bristol." Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby girl, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over her forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where -." whispered Professor McGonagall. "Yes," said Dumbledore. "She'll have that scar forever." "Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?" "Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well - give her here, Hagrid - we'd better get this over with." Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house. "Could I - could I say good-bye to her, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Rosalinda and gave her what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog. "Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!" "S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it - Lily an' James dead - an' poor little Rosalinda off ter live with Muggles -"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Rosalinda gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Rosalinda's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out. "Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir." Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night. "I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply. Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Mother take care of Rosalinda" he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone. Then a young woman walk out of the shadows to little Rosalinda and picked her up "My Daughter, I won't you stay here with these Muggle's, you're better off at camp, my dear Rosalinda Selene Potter, Albus thank you for telling me about her." The woman said as a breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Rosalinda Potter rolled over inside her blankets without waking up in her mother's warm arms. One small hand closed on the letter beside her and she slept on, she couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Rosalinda Potter - the girl who lived!" not know just how special she was.

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Notes:

Petunia Evans - Daughter of Ares and Goddess of Supernatural Abilities (Like Super Speed and Strength) she acts like the book and movie Petunia, My Petunia is nice she pretends that she pretends she doesn't have a sister.

Minerva and Albus's Conisation is an act they both knew Rosa was a demigod but they played the conisation like that so if a death eater or monster was listening they didn't get much info from the conisation.


	2. Letter From Hogwarts and Diagon Ally

**I do not own Harry Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Two – Letter From Hogwarts and Diagon Ally**

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It has been almost 10 years since little Rosalinda was left on Number 4 Privet Drive and was taken by her mother and taken to a safe the only safe place for little Rosa's kind and speaking of Rosa "Wake up Rosa" said her best friend Luke Castellan "No, go way" Rosa mumbled in her pillow "We do this every morning Rosie" he mutter as he grabbed Rosa's blankets and pulled them off "Come on Rosie, don't you want Breakfast" he said "Breakfast?" she mumbled "Yes, so get up or I will get Kaia" he said "Fine, Fine" she said as she slowly got up and walked into her bathroom, stoping to only grab her towel and clothing "That's my girl, I'm going to wait outside" he called as he walked outside "Why do I even put up with you " she muttered as she walked back into her bedroom and grabbed her hairbrush "Hmm, I don't know My Little Moon" "Mother" she said as she spun around to see her mother sitting on her bed smiling "That's right Little Moon, well don't just stand there come give me a hug dear" said Rosa's Mother as she opened her arms "Mother, not that I'm not glad to see you but why are you here" she said as she walked up to her mother and gave her a hug "Hmm, well it could be about your Hogwarts letter, now where did I put that letter" Rosa's Mother said as she started looking for her daughter's letter as a Labrador walks up whit a letter in its mouth "Oh thank you Hecuba" said Rosa's mother as she took the letter from the Labrador and handed to her daughter "Rosie, what's taking so long" Luke said as he walked in "Lady Hecate" he said as he dropped into a bow "Rise, Luke Castellan" said Rosa's mother Hecate "Mother, can I open it now" said Rosa "of course" said Hecate as Rosa started opening her letter:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Miss. R. Potter

Bed 1 of Cabin #20

Camp Half-Blood, Half-Blood Hill, Farm Road 3.141

Long Island, New York 11954

Dear Miss Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall, Daughter of Athena, Legacy of Hecate and Goddess of Defense

Deputy Headmistress

Supplies List

First-year students will require:

Uniform

Three Sets of Plain Work Robes (Black)

One Plain Pointed Hat (Black) for day wear

One Pair of Protective Gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One Winter Cloak (Black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all students' clothes should carry name-tags at all times.

Books

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment

1 Wand

1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set of glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set of brass scales

Students may also bring an Owl OR a Cat OR a Toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.

"Where do we get this stuff Mother" said Rosa "Diagon Ally Little Moon, Luke can you tell Chiron I am taking her to Diagon Ally" said Hecate "Sure Lady Hecate" said Luke as he gave Rosa a hug and left "Hmm dose My little Rose have a crush on this Luke, hmm" said Hecate "MOTHER" Rosa yelled "Fine, grab my hand and then we can go" Hecate said as she gave her hand to her daughter and with a small pop they left cabin #20 and appeared outside of a pub called the Leaky Cauldron which was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Rosa was new at magic, she wouldn't have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, if Rosa had not known about the wards she would have had the most peculiar feeling that only she and her mother could see it. Before she could mention this, her mother had steered her inside.

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know her mother; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Ivy?" "Can't, Tom sorry, I got to help my daughter get her school supplies," said Hecate, a pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching. "Professor Quirrell!" said Hecate. "Linda, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts." "P- Pleased to meet you" stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Rosa's hand "What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" "D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought "Must get on Linda lots to buy." Hecate said as she led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

Hecate, meanwhile was counting bricks in the wall above the trash can. "Three up... two across she muttered."Right, stand back, Rose." she tapped the wall three times with the point of her wand. The brick she had touched quivered - it wriggled - in the middle, a small hole appeared - it grew wider and wider - a second later they were facing a large archway, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight. "Welcome," said Hecate, "to Diagon Alley." she grinned at Rosa's amazement. They stepped through the archway. Rosa looked quickly over her shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly back into solid wall. The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-Stirring - Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them. "Yeah, you will be need one for Potions," said Hecate, "but we got to get money from Gringotts first." Rosa wished she had about eight more eyes. She turned her head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad..." A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium - Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy.

Several boys of about Rosa's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Rosa heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand - fastest ever -" There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Rosa had seen in books before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon and more "Gringotts," said Hecate They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was -"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hecate quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about a head shorter than Rosa. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, Rosa noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

Enter, stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed,  
For those who take, but do not earn,  
Must pay most dearly in their turn.  
So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours,  
Thief, you have been warned, beware  
Of finding more than treasure there.

"I love that poem," said Hecate. A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hecate and Rosa made for the counter. "Morning," said Hecate to a free goblin. "I would like to make a withdrawal for Miss. Rosalinda Potter's safe." "You have her key, Lady Hecate?" "Sure, she is my daughter," said Hecate, Rosa watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals. "Got it," said Hecate holding up a tiny golden key. The goblin looked at it closely. "That seems to be in order Lady Hecate, I will have Someone  
take you down to the vault. Griphook!" Griphook was yet another goblin. Hecate and Rosa followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall. Griphook held the door open for them. Rosa, who had expected more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed - and were off.

At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Rosa tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering. Rosa's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but she kept them wide open. Once, she thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late - - they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Rosa gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts."All yours," smiled Hecate. All Rosa's - it was incredible. She knew she had money just not this all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to her, buried deep under helped Rosa pile some of it into a bag. "The gold ones are Galleons," she explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough." One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Rosa didn't know where to run first now that she had a bag full of money.

She didn't know how many Galleons there were to a pound, dollar or even drachmas "Might as well get your uniform," said Hecate, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Rose, I need to get something from Gringotts." Rosa entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous. Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve. "Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Rosa started to speak. "Got the lot here - a young man being fitted up just now, in fact." In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Rosa on a stool next to him and slipped a long robe over her head, and began to pin it to the right length. "Hello Ro," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?" "Yes Drakon," said Rosa. "My step-father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said Draco. He had a bored, drawling voice Rosa knew was a act. "Have you got your own broom Ro?" the boy went on.

"No," said Rosa. "Know what house you'll be in yet?" said Draco "No," said Rosa "Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin or Ravenclaw, all my step- father family have been in along with my adoptive mother ""Cissa was a Slytherin? ," said Rosa "Oh Ro, look it's your mother and yes she was a Slytherin!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hecate was standing there, grinning at Rosa and pointing at two large ice creams to show she couldn't come, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Rosa, hopped down from the footstool."Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, Ro," said Draco. Rosa was rather quiet as she ate the ice cream Hecate had bought her (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts).

"What's up?" said Hecate. "Nothing," Rosa lied. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Rosa cheered up a bit when she found a bottle of ink that changed colour as you wrote. When they had left the shop, she said, "What are Slytherin and Ravenclaw?" "School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot of duffers, but they value hard work, patience, loyalty, and fair play their animal is the badger, and the colours are yellow and black, the Fat Friar is the House's patron ghost, Hufflepuff corresponds roughly to the element of earth because their founder Helga Hufflepuff was a Daughter of Demeter, Ravenclaw's are are characterised by their wit, learning, and wisdom. Its house colours are blue and bronze, and its symbol is the eagle, the house ghost, who in life was the daughter of the house's founder is the Grey Lady, Ravenclaw roughly corresponds with the element of air even though Rowena Ravenclaw was a Daughter of Athena, Slytherin house takes cunning, resourcefulness, and ambition. It's animal is the snake and its colours are green and silver. the house ghost is the Bloody Baron. Founded by Salazar Slytherin, Slytherin house has a negative reputation, with many claiming that it is the source of most Dark Wizards in Britain, notably Voldemort, as well as a large majority of his followers. It has a traditional rivalry with Gryffindor. Slytherin corresponds roughly with the element of water though Salazar Slytherin was a Son of Hades and lastly the school house your father was in Gryffindor founded by Godric Gryffindor. Its emblematic animal is the lion, and its colours are red and gold. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, also known as "Nearly Headless Nick" is the house ghost. The characteristics of students Sorted into Gryffindor are courage, chivalry and determination. Gryffindor corresponds roughly to the element of fire, and it's founder was Godric Gryffindor who was a Son of Ares" said Hecate as they bought Rosa's school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all.

Hecate had to drag Rosa away from the shop after buying at least 50 books Hecate wouldn't let Rosa buy a solid gold cauldron, either ("It says pewter on your list and you wouldn't need a gold one for the class "), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hecate asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients and extra for Rosa, Rosa himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).Outside the Apothecary, Hecate checked Rosa's list again. "Just a wand left and a birthday present." Rosa felt herself go red.

"You don't have to -" "I know I don't have to but I want to. Tell you what, I'll get you animal." Twenty minutes later, they left Magical Menagerie, Rosa carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing and a cat carrier with a fluffy calico kitten. She couldn't stop stammering her thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell. "Don't mention it," said a Hecate. "Just Ollivanders left now - only place for wands, Ollivanders, and you got to have the best wand." A magic wand... this was what Rosa had been really looking forward to.

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hecate sat on to wait. Rosa felt strangely as though she had entered a very strict library, she swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to her and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. The back of her neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some magic. "Good afternoon Mother," said a soft voice. Rosa jumped as her hand went to her necklace. An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. "Hello," said Rosa awkwardly.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Rosalinda Potter but I didn't know you would be my sister as well." It wasn't a question. "You have our mother's eyes" Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Rosa. Rosa wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy. "Your father favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course." Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Rosa were almost nose to nose. Rosa could see herself reflected in those misty eyes.

"And that's where..." Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Rosa's forehead with a  
long, white finger. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into he would to do..." He shook his head and "Well, now - Rosalinda. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?" "Err - well, I'm right-handed and it's Rosa" said Rosa. "Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Rosa from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round her head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Rosa. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand but for our kind." Rosa realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between her nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Rosa. Try this one. Beechwood and Drakon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave." Rosa took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of her hand almost at once. "Maple and Basilisk fang. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try -" Rosa tried - but she had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander. "No, no -here, ebony and dragon scale, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out." Rosa tried. And tried. she had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become. "Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere - I wonder, now - - yes, why not - unusual combination - yew and English ivy wrapped around a Maeonian Drakon Fang, eleven inches, nice and supple." Rosa took the wand. she felt a sudden warmth in her fingers. she raised the wand above her head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of black and silver sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Hecate clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good." He put Rosa's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper Rosa paid seven gold Galleons for her wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Rosa and Hecate made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, "Got time for a bite to eat before you need to go back to camp Hecate said. she bought Rosa a sandwich, salad, treacle tart some butterbeer and they sat down on seats to eat them. Rosa kept looking around. Everything looked so strange, somehow "You all right, Rosa? You're very quiet," said Hecate. Rosa wasn't sure she could explain. She'd just had the best birthday of her life - and yet - she chewed his hamburger, trying to find the words. "Nothing it's just I have never been outside of camp," after eating, Hecate waved her hand causing Rosa's school supplies to disappear to her cabin "come on Rosa, time to go" she said as she grabbed her daughter's hand and with a pop disappeared to Rosa's cabin with her school supplies and new pets "here is your ticket, I will pick you up at nine on September 1st" Hecate said giving her a ticket and backed up and disappeared with a small flash of light.


	3. Platform Nine and Three-Quarters

**I do not own Harry Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Three – Platform Nine and Three-Quarters**

* * *

Rosa kept to her room mostly, with her new owl for company. She had decided to call her Hedwig, a name she had found in A History of Magic and named her cat Mystic. Her school books were very interesting. She lay on her bed reading late into the night, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased. It was lucky that she is good at cleaning charms, because Hedwig kept bringing back dead mice for both her and Mystic.

Every night before she went to sleep, Rosa ticked off another day on the piece of paper she had pinned to the wall of the cabin, counting down to September the first. On the last day of August her mother showed up "Change of plan's, I'm gonna take you to the Leaky Cauldron and from there you can take a ride on the Knight Bus to King's Cross tomorrow" said Hecate and with a pop appeared outside of the Leaky Cauldron and they went in "Tom can I get a room for my daughter from today till tomorrow so she can take the Knight Bus to Kings Cross, When the day came at 9'o clock she took the Knight Bus to King's Cross there was a deafening BANG, a second later, a gigantic pair of wheels screeched to a halt exactly in front of Rosa.

They belonged, as Rosa saw to a triple-decker, violently purple bus, which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled The Knight Bus. Then a conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. just stick out your wand hand, step on board and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Jo Walker, and I will be your conductor today" "What's your name?" Jo asked. "Linda Emrys," said Rosa, saying the first name that came into her head. "So this bus," she went on quickly, hoping to distract Jo, "did you say it goes anywhere?" "Yep," said Jo proudly, "anywhere you like, long's it's on land. Can't do anything underwater," he said, "You did flag us down, Stuck out your wand?" "Yes," said Rosa quickly. "Listen, how much would it be to get to King's Cross?" "Five Sickles," said Jo, "but for ten you can get some Chocolate and Butterbeer." Rosa rummaged once more in her Purse, extracted her money bag, and shoved some Sickles into Jo's hand.

Jo pulled out her wand and said "Wingardium Leviosa" then lifted Rosa's trunk with Hedwig's cage and Mystic carrier balanced on top, up the steps of the bus. There were seats "You can have this one," Jo whispered, shoving Rosa's trunk under the seat right behind the driver, who was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering wheel. "This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This, is Linda Emrys, Ern." Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard wearing very thick glasses, nodded to Rosa, who smiled at him and sat down on her seat. "Take her away, Ern," said Jo, sitting down in the armchair next to Ernie's. There was another tremendous BANG, and the next moment Rosa found her seat thrown backward by the speed of the Knight Bus. Rosa stared out of the window and saw that they were now bowling along a completely different street. Jo was watching Rosa's stunned face with great enjoyment.

Great a bus like the Gray Sister's Taxi she thought "This is where we were before you flagged us down," she said. "Where are we, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?" "Ar," said Ernie. "How come the Muggles don't hear the bus?" said Rosa. "Them!" said Jo contemptuously. "Don't listen properly, do they? Don't look properly either. Never notice nothing, they don't." "Best go get up Madam Krista, Jo," said Ern. "We'll be in Abergavenny in a minute." Jo passed Rosa's seat and disappeared up a narrow wooden staircase. Rosa was still looking out of the window, feeling nervous. Ernie didn't seem to have mastered the use of a steering wheel like the Gray Sister's but they only have one eye for all three of them. The Knight Bus kept mounting the pavement, but it didn't hit anything; lines of lampposts, mailboxes, and trash cans jumped out of its way as it approached and back into position once it had passed. Jo came back downstairs, followed by a faintly green witch wrapped in a red traveling cloak. ''Here you go, Madam Krista," said Jo happily as Ern stamped on the brake and the seats slid a foot or so toward the front of the bus.

Madam Krista clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered down the steps. Jo threw her bag out after her and rammed the doors shut; there was another loud BANG, they were stopped in front of King's Cross, Jo flicked her wand and Rosa's Trunk slid out and floated down the steps onto the sidewalk. They reached King's Cross at half past ten. Jo dumped Rosa's trunk onto a cart and wheeled it into the station for her. "Well, there you are, Linda. Platform nine - platform ten. Your platform is somewhere in the middle, but you have to find it on your own" said as she said bye and left she was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle and if she couldn't sense the magic she would of thought there was nothing at all. She was starting to attract a lot of funny looks, because of Hedwig and Mystic.

She started to walk where her magic senses pointed her. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, she had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and she had no idea how to do it; at that moment a group of people passed just behind him and she caught a few words of what they were saying. "- packed with Muggles, of course -" Rosa swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair.

Each of them was pushing a trunk like Rosa's in front of her - and they had an owl. Rosa pushed her cart after them. They stopped and so did she, just near enough to hear what they were saying. "Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother. "Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand who Rosa saw was Ginny Weasley a daughter of Aphrodite, "Mom, can't I go... ""You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first." What looked like the oldest boy and as she knew was a son of Dionysus marched toward platforms nine and ten. Rosa watched, careful not to blink in case he missed it - but just as the boy reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished. "Fred, you next," the plump woman said. "I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? CarA you tell I'm George?" "Sorry, George, dear." "Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went. His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later, he had gone, it's like the Mist, Rosa thought. Now the third brother was walking briskly toward the barrier he was almost there - and then, quite suddenly, he wasn't anywhere. There was nothing else for it. "Excuse me," Rosa said to the plump woman. "Hello, dear," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too." She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose. "Yes," said Rosa. "The thing is, I don't know how to -" "How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Rosa nodded. "Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron." "Okay," said Rosa. She pushed his trolley around and stared at the barrier. It looked very solid but Rosa knew better. She started to walk toward it. People jostled her on their way to platforms nine and ten. Rosa walked more quickly. She leaned forward on her cart and broke into a run - the barrier was coming nearer and nearer - she wouldn't be able to stop - the cart was out of control - she was a foot away - she closed his eyes ready for the crash - It didn't come... she kept on running... she opened her eyes.

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven O'clock. Rosa looked behind her and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it, she had done it. Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Rosa pushed her cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. She passed her friend Neville Longbottom who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again." "Oh, Neville," she heard the old woman sigh.

A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd. "Give us a look, Lee, go on." The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Rosa pressed on through the crowd until she found an empty compartment near the end of the train. She put Hedwig and Mystic inside first and then started to shove and heave her trunk toward the train door. she tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice she dropped it painfully on his foot. "Want a hand?" It was one of the red-haired twins she'd followed through the barrier. "Yes, please," Rosa panted. "Oi, Fred! Come here and help!" With the twins' help, Rosa's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

"Thanks," said Rosa, pushing her sweaty hair out of his eyes. "What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Rosa's lightning scar. "Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you" "She is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Rosa. "What?" said Rosa. "Rosalinda Potter, "chorused the twins. "Oh, her," said Rosa. "I mean, yes, I am but call me Rosa." The two boys gawked at her, and Rosa felt herself turning pink. Then, to her relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door. "Fred? George? Are you there?" "Coming, Mom." With a last look at Rosa, the twins hopped off the train. Rosa sat down next to the window where, half hidden, she could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief. "Ron, you've got something on your nose." The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

"Mom - geroff" He wriggled free. "Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got some fink on his nosie?" said one of the twins. "Shut up," said Ron. "Where's Percy?" said their mother. "He's coming now." The oldest boy came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and Rosa noticed a shiny silver badge on his chest with the letter P on it. "Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves -" "Oh, are you a prefect, Percy?" said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea." "Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said the other twin. "Once or twice a minute -" "All summer when we were there -" "Oh, shut up," said Percy the Prefect. "How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said one of the twins. "Because he's a prefect," said their mother fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term - send me an owl when you get there." She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins. "Now, you two - this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've - you've blown up a toilet or -" "Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet a friend ours has a brother who did though." "Great idea though, thanks, Mom." "It's not funny. And look after Ron." "Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us." "Shut up," said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it. "Hey, Mom, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?" Rosa leaned back quickly so they couldn't see her looking. "You know that black-haired girl who was near us in the station? Know who she is?" "Who?" "Rosalinda Potter!" Rosa heard the little girl's voice. "Oh, Mom, can I go on the train and see her, Mom, eh please..." "You've already seen her, Ginny, and the poor girl isn't something you goggle at in a zoo. Is she really, Fred? How do you know?" "Asked him. Saw her scar. It's really there - like lightning." "Poor dear - no wonder she was alone, I wondered. She was ever so polite when he asked how to get onto the platform." "Never mind that, do you think she remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?" Their mother suddenly became very stern. "I forbid you to ask her, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though she needs reminding of that on her first day at school." "All right, keep your hair on." A whistle sounded. "Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger sister began to cry. "Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls." "We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat." "George!" "Only joking, Mom." The train began to move. Rosa saw the boys' mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed, then she fell back and waved. Rosa watched the girl and her mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Rosa felt a great leap of excitement.

She didn't know what she was going to but she had heard from her mother Hogwarts was a good. The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest redheaded boy came in. "Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Rosa. "Everywhere else is full." Rosa shook his head and the boy sat down. He glanced at Rosa and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't looked. Rosa saw he still had a black mark on his nose. "Hey, Ron." The twins were back. "Listen, we're going down the middle of the train - Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there and Kaia is there as well." "Right," mumbled Ron. "Rosa," said the other twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then. "Bye," said Rosa and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them. "Are you really Rosalinda Potter?" Ron blurted out. Rosa nodded. "Oh -well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And have you really got - you know..." He pointed at Rosa's forehead. Rosa pulled back her bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron stared. "So that's where You-Know-Who "Yes," said Rosa, "but I can't remember it." "Nothing?" said Ron eagerly. "Well - I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else." "Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Rosa for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again. "Are all your family wizards?" asked Rosa, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found her. "Er - Yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him." "So you must know loads of magic already." "I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?" "Not bad, not. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers." Rosa said not saying that she had brothers and sisters "Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy.

"I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left - Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat." Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. "His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff - I mean, I got Scabbers instead." Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window. Rosa didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. After all, she'd never spent any money in her life until a month ago because she had never left camp, and she told Ron all about leaving the place where she lived till last month. This seemed to cheer Ron up. "... and until My Aunt's friend told me, I didn't know anything about being a witch or about my parents or Voldemort" witch was a lie because she knew all about Magic and her parents but she didn't know much about Voldemort only that he killed her farther, Ron gasped. "What?" said Rosa. "You said You-Know-Who's name!" said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people -" "I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," said Rosa, I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn... I bet," she added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying her a lot because she only knew the basic magic of her kind she only knew the theory of basic wizard magic, "I bet I'm the worst in the class." "You won't be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough." While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London.

Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past. Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?" Rosa, who didn't have much breakfast, leapt to her feet, but Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches. Rosa went out into the corridor. She had never had much candy growing up at camp with the only candy being smuggled in to camp by the Stolls, and now that she had pockets rattling with gold and silver she was ready to buy as many Candy as she could carry and them some - but the woman didn't have any of the candy she had tried in America. What she did have were Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs. Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands, and a number of other strange things Rosa had never seen in her life. Not wanting to miss anything, she got some of everything and paid the woman eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts. Ron stared as Rosa brought it all back in to the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat. "Hungry, are you?" "Starving," said Rosa, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty. Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it.

There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef." "Swap you for one of these," Rosa, holding up a pasty. "Go on -" "You don't want this, it's all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us." "Go on, have a pasty," said Rosa, who likes to share. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating their way through all Rosa's pasties, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay forgotten). "What are these?" Rosa asked Ron, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not really frogs, are they?" She was starting to feel that nothing would surprise her. "No," said Ron. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa." "What?" "Oh, of course, you wouldn't know - Chocolate Frogs have cards, inside them, you know, to collect - famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy." Rosa unwrapped her Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man's face. He wore half- moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore, so this was her mother's second oldest son with the oldest being Merlin. "So this is Dumbledore!" said Rosa. "Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa – thanks Rosa turned over his card and read:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling. Ha Grindelwald was not a dark wizard he was a son Hades

Rosa turned the card back over and saw, to her astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared, of course she had read about moving photos but to see them with your own eyes was another thing all together. "He's gone!" "Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," said Ron. "He'll be back. No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her... do you want it? You can start collecting." Ron's eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped. "Help yourself," said Rosa. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos. "Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Ron sounded amazed. "weird!" Rosa stared as Dumbledore sidled back into the picture on his card and gave her a small secretive smile. Ron was more interested in eating the frogs than looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards cards, but Rosa couldn't keep her eyes off them. Soon she had not only Dumbledore and Morgana, but Hengist of Woodcroft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe who she laughed, Paracelsus, and Merlin. She finally tore his eyes away from the Duchess Cliodna, who was scratching her nose, to open a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Rosa. "When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor - you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and malade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger flavoured one once." Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner. "Bleaaargh - see? Sprouts."

They had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Rosa got toast with butter, coconut cake, baked fish, strawberry like the ones grown at camp, mild curry, grass, coffee with cinnamon, treacle tart, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one Ron wouldn't touch, which turned out to be pepper. The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills. There was a knock on the door of their compartment and Neville who Rosa had passed on platform nine and three quarters came in. He looked tearful. "Sorry Rose," he said, "but have you seen Trevor at all?" When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!" "He'll turn up if not ask Kaia," said Rosa. "Yes," said Neville. "Well, if you see him..." He left. "Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk." The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap. "He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..." He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end. "Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway he had just raised his 'wand when the compartment door slid open again. The Neville was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said.

She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth. "We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand. "Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." She sat down. Ron looked taken aback. "Er - all right." He cleared his throat. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep. "Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you. She said all this very fast. Rosa looked at Ron, and was relieved to see by his stunned face that he hadn't learned all the course books by heart either but she had read them all. "I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered. "Rosalinda Potter but I go by Rosa," said Rosa. "Are you really?" said Hermione. "I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books. for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. "Am I?" said Rosa, feeling dazed because she hadn't read those two yet but they along with all her magic stuff were in her trunk. "Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville' toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon." And she left, taking the Neville with her. "Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron. He threw his wand back into his trunk.

"Stupid spell - George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud." "What house are your brothers in?" asked Rosa. "Gryffindor," said Ron. Gloom seemed to be settling on him again. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin." "That's the house Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?" "Yeah," said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed. "You know, I think the ends of Scabbers' whiskers are a bit lighter," said Rosa trying to hide disgust because she hated rats she always had and always will, trying to take Ron's mind off houses. "So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?" Rosa was wondering what a wizard or witch did once he or she had finished school. "Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles - someone tried to rob a high security vault." Rosa stared. "Really? What happened to them?" "Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it." Rosa stored this news in her mind. She was starting to get a prickle of fear every time You- Know-Who was mentioned. She supposed this was all part of entering the magical world, but it had been a lot more comfortable saying "Voldemort" without worrying. "What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked. "Er - I don't know any," Rosa confessed. "What!" Ron looked dumbfounded. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world -" And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money. He was just taking Rosa through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville or Hermione Granger this time. Three boys entered, and Rosa recognized the middle one at once as Draco Malfoy. He was looking at Rosa with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley which Rosa knew was an act. "Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Rosalinda Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" "Yes," said Rosa. She was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said Draco with a sneer, noticing where Rosa was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco looked at him. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." He turned back to Rosa. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He held out his hand to shake Rosa's, but Rosa didn't take it knowing it was an act. "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," she said coolly with a small wink. Draco didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys, and it'll rub off on you." Both Rosa and Ron stood up. "Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair. "Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered. "Unless you get out now," said Rosa, more bravely than she felt, because Crabbe and Goyle were a lot bigger than her or Ron but she knew that even if an enemy is larger than oneself it can be defeated. "But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some." Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron - Ron leapt forward, but before he'd so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell. Scabbers the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle - Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once. Perhaps they thought there were more rats lurking among the sweets, or perhaps they'd heard footsteps, because a second later, Hermione Granger had come in. "What has been going on?" she said, looking at the sweets all over the floor and Ron picking up Scabbers by his tail. I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Rosa. He looked closer at Scabbers. "No - I don't believe it - he's gone back to sleep-" And so he had which Rosa though very strange. "You've met Malfoy before?" Rosa explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley. "I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione.

"Can we help you with something?" "You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!" "Scabbers has been fighting, not us," said Ron, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?" "All right - I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," said Hermione in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?" Ron glared at her as she left. Rosa peered out of the window. It was getting dark. She could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down. She glared at Ron till he left so she could change out of her dress into her school outfit then she and Ron took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. Ron's were a bit short for him, you could see his sneakers underneath them. A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately." Rosa's stomach lurched with nerves and Ron, he saw, looked pale under his freckles.

They crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor. The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Rosa shivered in the cold night air and pulled her robes on tighter. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Rosa heard a voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" A big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads which caused Rosa's hand to go to her necklace. "C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs 'years follow me!" Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Rosa thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, sniffed once or twice guess he didn't find Trevor. "Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here." There was a loud "Oooooh!" The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black take. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. "No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Rosa and Ron were followed into their boat by Neville and Hermione. "Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!" And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood. "Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles. "Oi, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them. "Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, Oak front door. "Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

Notes:

Rosa can sense magic as she is a daughter of Hecate Goddess of Magic & Witchcraft, Goddess of Crossroads, Goddess of the Mist.


	4. The Sorting Hat

**I do not own Harry Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Four – The Sorting Hat**

* * *

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Rosa's first thought was that this was not someone to cross. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid."Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the camp but not the woods in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too  
high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Rosa could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right-the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They  
crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Rosa tried to flatten her hair. "I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly." She left the chamber. Rosa swallowed.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked Ron. "Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Rosa's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? Oh Gods In front of the whole if she has to read, oh my Gods, in front of the school? But she didn't know any wizard /witch magic yet - what on earth would she have to do? She hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived.

She looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Rosa tried hard not to listen to her. She'd never been more nervous, never, not even when she had turned Chiron blue.

She kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to her doom at this school. Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air - several people behind her screamed. "What the -?" She gasped. So did the people around her.

About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -" "My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered. "New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few people nodded mutely. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know." "Move along now," said a sharp voice.

"The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall. "Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me." Feeling oddly as though her legs had turned to lead, Rosa got into line behind a boy with sandy hair who she knew as Seamus Finnigan a Son of Hephaestus, with Ron behind her, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Rosa had never imagined Hogwarts as a strange and splendid place like Camp. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the  
top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them.

The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Rosa looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. She heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History." It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Rosa quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Silena wouldn't even let it Camp. Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Rosa thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing - noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, she stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:  
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. "So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Rosa. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll." Rosa smiled. Yes, trying on a hat was a lot better than having to fight a troll but she could beat it, but she did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching then she mentally slapped herself at that thought. The hat seemed to be asking rather alot; Rosa didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for her which caused her to give herself another metal slap.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!" A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails who was a sister of hers but she only came to camp in the summer, stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause - "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat which Rosa knew was a perfect fit for Hannah.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Rosa saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her. "Bones, Susan!" Wow another sister "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah who smiled at her. "Boot, Terry!" "RAVENCLAW!" The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

" Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" who was a daughter of Aphrodite became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Rosa could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling. "Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.

Perhaps it was Rosa's imagination, after all she'd heard about Slytherin, but she thought most of them looked like an unpleasant lot but there were a few who didn't . She was starting to feel definitely sick  
now. She remembered being picked for teams during Capture the Flag at Camp. She had always been last to be chosen, not because she was no good, but because during the school year she was one of the only campers in cabin #20 because during the school years before Hogwarts most of her siblings spent time with their families.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" "HUFFLEPUFF!" Sometimes, Rosa noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," sat on the stool for almost  
a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor. "Granger, Hermione!" Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. "GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

Ron groaned. A horrible thought struck Rosa, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if she wasn't chosen at all? What if she just sat there with the hat over her eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off her head and said there had been a mistake and she'd better get back on the train and get back to camp?

When Neville, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide  
with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag." She got sorted in to Ravenclaw,

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy went to join Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself to others but to those who knew him a bit scared. There weren't many people left now. "Lily Moon" who was a hunter became a Hufflepuff "Theodore Nott" who was a son of Athena and "Pansy Parkinson" a daughter of Ares became both Slytherin then a pair of twin girls who were twin daughters of Aphrodite, "Padma Patil" and "Parvati Patil" when to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor then "Perks, Sally-Anne" who became a Ravenclaw and then, at last - "Potter, Rosalinda!" As Rosa stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?" "The Rosalinda Potter?" The last thing Rosa saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her minus her friends from camp. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited. "Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, A my goodness a Greek demi-god daughter of Hecate as well, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?" Rosa gripped the edges of the stool and thought, I may have friends in Slytherin but everyone one thinks I will go to the same house as my farther and being in Gryffindor may be my last chance outside my mother and my half-sister, so not  
Slytherin.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that - no? Well, if you're sure - better be GRYFFINDOR!" Rosa heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. She took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. She was relieved to have been \put in Gryffindor so she could find out more about her farther, I mean having her mother and half-sister were something but to learn about him from other people was a good thing, she hardly noticed that she was getting the loudest cheer yet.

Percy the Prefect got up and shook her hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Rosa sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff she'd seen earlier. The ghost patted her arm, giving Rosa the sudden feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water. She could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest her sat Hagrid, who caught her eye and gave her the thumbs up. Rosa grinned at him. And there, in the centre of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore.

Rosa recognized him at once from the card she'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train and because he was one of her brothers after all. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Rosa spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban which she didn't see him wearing before when she meet him. And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron who was a son of Apollo, joined Rosa at the Gryffindor table who gave Rosa a small smile.

"Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Rosa crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"  
Rosa clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to her. "Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley said pompously across Rosa as "Zabini, Blaise," a son of Athena was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. Rosa looked down at her empty gold plate. She had only just realized how hungry she was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. "Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! "Thank you!" He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Rosa didn't know whether to laugh or not even if he was her brother.

"Is he - a bit mad?" she asked Percy uncertainly. "Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Rosalinda?" Rosa's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. She had never seen so many things unhealthy food to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

Camp had never ever starved Rosa, but they only served extra-lean-cut nymph-prepared BBQ, grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, and fresh bread. Rosa piled her plate with a bit of everything except the peppermint humbugs and began to eat. It was all delicious. "That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Rosa cut up her steak, "Can't you -?" I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower." "I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly.

"My brothers told me about you - you're Nearly Headless Nick!" "I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy -" the ghost began stiffly, but Seamus interrupted. "Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?" Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't  
going at all the way he wanted. "Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His  
whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly which was strange for her because even a five year old demigod could do better. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly  
Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So - new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost."

Rosa looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Draco who, Rosa was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements, Ha that was from the time you helped the Stolls put rats in my cabin even if you didn't know. "How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately but Rosa knew why 'He killed someone then killed himself because of it' she said telepathy to Seamus 'Why' said Seamus back 'That I don't know' said said to him back. When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding - " As Rosa helped herself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families "I'm half-and-half," said Seamus.

"My dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him." Which Rosa knew was a half lie because his step-father was a Muggle. The others laughed. "What about you, Neville?" said Ron. "Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all- Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad." On Rosa's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult-"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of  
thing - ").

Rosa, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy  
black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Rosa's eyes - and a sharp, hot pain shot across  
the scar on Rosa's forehead. "Ouch!" Rosa clapped a hand to her head.

"What is it?" asked Percy. "N-nothing just a small headache." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Rosa had gotten from the teacher's look - a small feeling that he didn't like Rosa at all. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy. "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape." Rosa watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at her again.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent. "Ahern - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. "First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins and Rosa got the feeling that they were Pranksters. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." Rosa laughed, but she was one of the few who did. "He's not serious?" she muttered to Percy. "Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the  
forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least." "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore.

Rosa noticed that the some of teachers' smiles had become rather fixed. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words. "Everyone pick their favourite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot.

Everybody finished the song at different times which Rosa found fun because it was just like the Campfire at camp which Rosa loved. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they  
had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest. "Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Rosa's legs were like lead again, but only because she was so tired and full of food.

She was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their  
feet, and Rosa was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt. A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him. "Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves - show yourself" A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered. "Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross- legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!" He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked. "Go away, Peeves, or the Baron will hear about this, I mean it!" barked  
Percy. Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on  
Neville's head, Poor Neville she thought. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armour as he passed. "You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are." At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said. "Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it - Neville needed a leg up - and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs. Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase - they were obviously in one of the towers - they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

"Great school, isn't it?" Hermione muttered to Rosa through the hangings. "Get off, Tank! He's chewing my sheets." Said their roommate Ashleigh, Rosa was going to ask Hermione if she'd had any of the treacle tart, but she fell asleep almost at once. Perhaps Rosa had eaten a bit too much, because she had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to her, telling her she must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was her destiny. Rosa told the turban she didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; she tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully - and there was someone in the shadows, laughing at her as she struggled with it -then the shadow's laugh became high and cold - there was a burst of green light and Rosa woke, sweating and shaking hoping it wasn't a demi-god dream. She rolled over and fell asleep again, and when she woke next day, she didn't remember the dream at all.

**I do not own Harry Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Four – The Sorting Hat**

* * *

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Rosa's first thought was that this was not someone to cross. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid."Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the camp but not the woods in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too  
high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Rosa could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right-the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They  
crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Rosa tried to flatten her hair. "I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly." She left the chamber. Rosa swallowed.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked Ron. "Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Rosa's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? Oh Gods In front of the whole if she has to read, oh my Gods, in front of the school? But she didn't know any wizard /witch magic yet - what on earth would she have to do? She hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived.

She looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Rosa tried hard not to listen to her. She'd never been more nervous, never, not even when she had turned Chiron blue.

She kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to her doom at this school. Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air - several people behind her screamed. "What the -?" She gasped. So did the people around her.

About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -" "My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered. "New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few people nodded mutely. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know." "Move along now," said a sharp voice.

"The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall. "Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me." Feeling oddly as though her legs had turned to lead, Rosa got into line behind a boy with sandy hair who she knew as Seamus Finnigan a Son of Hephaestus, with Ron behind her, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Rosa had never imagined Hogwarts as a strange and splendid place like Camp. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the  
top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them.

The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Rosa looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. She heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History." It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Rosa quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Silena wouldn't even let it Camp. Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Rosa thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing - noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, she stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:  
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. "So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Rosa. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll." Rosa smiled. Yes, trying on a hat was a lot better than having to fight a troll but she could beat it, but she did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching then she mentally slapped herself at that thought. The hat seemed to be asking rather alot; Rosa didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for her which caused her to give herself another metal slap.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!" A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails who was a sister of hers but she only came to camp in the summer, stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause - "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat which Rosa knew was a perfect fit for Hannah.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Rosa saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her. "Bones, Susan!" Wow another sister "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah who smiled at her. "Boot, Terry!" "RAVENCLAW!" The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

" Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" who was a daughter of Aphrodite became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Rosa could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling. "Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.

Perhaps it was Rosa's imagination, after all she'd heard about Slytherin, but she thought most of them looked like an unpleasant lot but there were a few who didn't . She was starting to feel definitely sick  
now. She remembered being picked for teams during Capture the Flag at Camp. She had always been last to be chosen, not because she was no good, but because during the school year she was one of the only campers in cabin #20 because during the school years before Hogwarts most of her siblings spent time with their families.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" "HUFFLEPUFF!" Sometimes, Rosa noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," sat on the stool for almost  
a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor. "Granger, Hermione!" Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. "GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

Ron groaned. A horrible thought struck Rosa, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if she wasn't chosen at all? What if she just sat there with the hat over her eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off her head and said there had been a mistake and she'd better get back on the train and get back to camp?

When Neville, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide  
with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag." She got sorted in to Ravenclaw,

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy went to join Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself to others but to those who knew him a bit scared. There weren't many people left now. "Lily Moon" who was a hunter became a Hufflepuff "Theodore Nott" who was a son of Athena and "Pansy Parkinson" a daughter of Ares became both Slytherin then a pair of twin girls who were twin daughters of Aphrodite, "Padma Patil" and "Parvati Patil" when to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor then "Perks, Sally-Anne" who became a Ravenclaw and then, at last - "Potter, Rosalinda!" As Rosa stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?" "The Rosalinda Potter?" The last thing Rosa saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her minus her friends from camp. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited. "Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, A my goodness a Greek demi-god daughter of Hecate as well, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?" Rosa gripped the edges of the stool and thought, I may have friends in Slytherin but everyone one thinks I will go to the same house as my farther and being in Gryffindor may be my last chance outside my mother and my half-sister, so not  
Slytherin.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that - no? Well, if you're sure - better be GRYFFINDOR!" Rosa heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. She took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. She was relieved to have been \put in Gryffindor so she could find out more about her farther, I mean having her mother and half-sister were something but to learn about him from other people was a good thing, she hardly noticed that she was getting the loudest cheer yet.

Percy the Prefect got up and shook her hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Rosa sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff she'd seen earlier. The ghost patted her arm, giving Rosa the sudden feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water. She could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest her sat Hagrid, who caught her eye and gave her the thumbs up. Rosa grinned at him. And there, in the centre of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore.

Rosa recognized him at once from the card she'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train and because he was one of her brothers after all. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Rosa spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban which she didn't see him wearing before when she meet him. And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron who was a son of Apollo, joined Rosa at the Gryffindor table who gave Rosa a small smile.

"Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Rosa crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"  
Rosa clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to her. "Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley said pompously across Rosa as "Zabini, Blaise," a son of Athena was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. Rosa looked down at her empty gold plate. She had only just realized how hungry she was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. "Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! "Thank you!" He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Rosa didn't know whether to laugh or not even if he was her brother.

"Is he - a bit mad?" she asked Percy uncertainly. "Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Rosalinda?" Rosa's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. She had never seen so many things unhealthy food to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

Camp had never ever starved Rosa, but they only served extra-lean-cut nymph-prepared BBQ, grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, and fresh bread. Rosa piled her plate with a bit of everything except the peppermint humbugs and began to eat. It was all delicious. "That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Rosa cut up her steak, "Can't you -?" I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower." "I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly.

"My brothers told me about you - you're Nearly Headless Nick!" "I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy -" the ghost began stiffly, but Seamus interrupted. "Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?" Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't  
going at all the way he wanted. "Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His  
whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly which was strange for her because even a five year old demigod could do better. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly  
Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So - new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost."

Rosa looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Draco who, Rosa was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements, Ha that was from the time you helped the Stolls put rats in my cabin even if you didn't know. "How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately but Rosa knew why 'He killed someone then killed himself because of it' she said telepathy to Seamus 'Why' said Seamus back 'That I don't know' said said to him back. When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding - " As Rosa helped herself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families "I'm half-and-half," said Seamus.

"My dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him." Which Rosa knew was a half lie because his step-father was a Muggle. The others laughed. "What about you, Neville?" said Ron. "Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all- Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad." On Rosa's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult-"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of  
thing - ").

Rosa, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy  
black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Rosa's eyes - and a sharp, hot pain shot across  
the scar on Rosa's forehead. "Ouch!" Rosa clapped a hand to her head.

"What is it?" asked Percy. "N-nothing just a small headache." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Rosa had gotten from the teacher's look - a small feeling that he didn't like Rosa at all. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy. "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape." Rosa watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at her again.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent. "Ahern - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. "First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins and Rosa got the feeling that they were Pranksters. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." Rosa laughed, but she was one of the few who did. "He's not serious?" she muttered to Percy. "Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the  
forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least." "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore.

Rosa noticed that the some of teachers' smiles had become rather fixed. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words. "Everyone pick their favourite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot.

Everybody finished the song at different times which Rosa found fun because it was just like the Campfire at camp which Rosa loved. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they  
had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest. "Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Rosa's legs were like lead again, but only because she was so tired and full of food.

She was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their  
feet, and Rosa was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt. A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him. "Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves - show yourself" A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered. "Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross- legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!" He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked. "Go away, Peeves, or the Baron will hear about this, I mean it!" barked  
Percy. Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on  
Neville's head, Poor Neville she thought. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armour as he passed. "You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are." At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said. "Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it - Neville needed a leg up - and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs. Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase - they were obviously in one of the towers - they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

"Great school, isn't it?" Hermione muttered to Rosa through the hangings. "Get off, Tank! He's chewing my sheets." Said their roommate Ashleigh, Rosa was going to ask Hermione if she'd had any of the treacle tart, but she fell asleep almost at once. Perhaps Rosa had eaten a bit too much, because she had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to her, telling her she must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was her destiny. Rosa told the turban she didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; she tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully - and there was someone in the shadows, laughing at her as she struggled with it -then the shadow's laugh became high and cold - there was a burst of green light and Rosa woke, sweating and shaking hoping it wasn't a demi-god dream. She rolled over and fell asleep again, and when she woke next day, she didn't remember the dream at all.

**I do not own Harry Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Four – The Sorting Hat**

* * *

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Rosa's first thought was that this was not someone to cross. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid."Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the camp but not the woods in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too  
high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Rosa could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right-the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They  
crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Rosa tried to flatten her hair. "I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly." She left the chamber. Rosa swallowed.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked Ron. "Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Rosa's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? Oh Gods In front of the whole if she has to read, oh my Gods, in front of the school? But she didn't know any wizard /witch magic yet - what on earth would she have to do? She hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived.

She looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Rosa tried hard not to listen to her. She'd never been more nervous, never, not even when she had turned Chiron blue.

She kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to her doom at this school. Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air - several people behind her screamed. "What the -?" She gasped. So did the people around her.

About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -" "My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered. "New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few people nodded mutely. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know." "Move along now," said a sharp voice.

"The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall. "Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me." Feeling oddly as though her legs had turned to lead, Rosa got into line behind a boy with sandy hair who she knew as Seamus Finnigan a Son of Hephaestus, with Ron behind her, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Rosa had never imagined Hogwarts as a strange and splendid place like Camp. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the  
top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them.

The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Rosa looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. She heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History." It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Rosa quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Silena wouldn't even let it Camp. Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Rosa thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing - noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, she stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:  
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. "So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Rosa. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll." Rosa smiled. Yes, trying on a hat was a lot better than having to fight a troll but she could beat it, but she did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching then she mentally slapped herself at that thought. The hat seemed to be asking rather alot; Rosa didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for her which caused her to give herself another metal slap.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!" A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails who was a sister of hers but she only came to camp in the summer, stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause - "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat which Rosa knew was a perfect fit for Hannah.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Rosa saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her. "Bones, Susan!" Wow another sister "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah who smiled at her. "Boot, Terry!" "RAVENCLAW!" The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

" Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" who was a daughter of Aphrodite became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Rosa could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling. "Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.

Perhaps it was Rosa's imagination, after all she'd heard about Slytherin, but she thought most of them looked like an unpleasant lot but there were a few who didn't . She was starting to feel definitely sick  
now. She remembered being picked for teams during Capture the Flag at Camp. She had always been last to be chosen, not because she was no good, but because during the school year she was one of the only campers in cabin #20 because during the school years before Hogwarts most of her siblings spent time with their families.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" "HUFFLEPUFF!" Sometimes, Rosa noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," sat on the stool for almost  
a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor. "Granger, Hermione!" Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. "GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

Ron groaned. A horrible thought struck Rosa, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if she wasn't chosen at all? What if she just sat there with the hat over her eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off her head and said there had been a mistake and she'd better get back on the train and get back to camp?

When Neville, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide  
with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag." She got sorted in to Ravenclaw,

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy went to join Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself to others but to those who knew him a bit scared. There weren't many people left now. "Lily Moon" who was a hunter became a Hufflepuff "Theodore Nott" who was a son of Athena and "Pansy Parkinson" a daughter of Ares became both Slytherin then a pair of twin girls who were twin daughters of Aphrodite, "Padma Patil" and "Parvati Patil" when to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor then "Perks, Sally-Anne" who became a Ravenclaw and then, at last - "Potter, Rosalinda!" As Rosa stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?" "The Rosalinda Potter?" The last thing Rosa saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her minus her friends from camp. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited. "Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, A my goodness a Greek demi-god daughter of Hecate as well, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?" Rosa gripped the edges of the stool and thought, I may have friends in Slytherin but everyone one thinks I will go to the same house as my farther and being in Gryffindor may be my last chance outside my mother and my half-sister, so not  
Slytherin.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that - no? Well, if you're sure - better be GRYFFINDOR!" Rosa heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. She took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. She was relieved to have been \put in Gryffindor so she could find out more about her farther, I mean having her mother and half-sister were something but to learn about him from other people was a good thing, she hardly noticed that she was getting the loudest cheer yet.

Percy the Prefect got up and shook her hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Rosa sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff she'd seen earlier. The ghost patted her arm, giving Rosa the sudden feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water. She could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest her sat Hagrid, who caught her eye and gave her the thumbs up. Rosa grinned at him. And there, in the centre of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore.

Rosa recognized him at once from the card she'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train and because he was one of her brothers after all. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Rosa spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban which she didn't see him wearing before when she meet him. And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron who was a son of Apollo, joined Rosa at the Gryffindor table who gave Rosa a small smile.

"Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Rosa crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"  
Rosa clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to her. "Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley said pompously across Rosa as "Zabini, Blaise," a son of Athena was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. Rosa looked down at her empty gold plate. She had only just realized how hungry she was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. "Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! "Thank you!" He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Rosa didn't know whether to laugh or not even if he was her brother.

"Is he - a bit mad?" she asked Percy uncertainly. "Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Rosalinda?" Rosa's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. She had never seen so many things unhealthy food to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

Camp had never ever starved Rosa, but they only served extra-lean-cut nymph-prepared BBQ, grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, and fresh bread. Rosa piled her plate with a bit of everything except the peppermint humbugs and began to eat. It was all delicious. "That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Rosa cut up her steak, "Can't you -?" I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower." "I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly.

"My brothers told me about you - you're Nearly Headless Nick!" "I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy -" the ghost began stiffly, but Seamus interrupted. "Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?" Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't  
going at all the way he wanted. "Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His  
whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly which was strange for her because even a five year old demigod could do better. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly  
Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So - new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost."

Rosa looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Draco who, Rosa was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements, Ha that was from the time you helped the Stolls put rats in my cabin even if you didn't know. "How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately but Rosa knew why 'He killed someone then killed himself because of it' she said telepathy to Seamus 'Why' said Seamus back 'That I don't know' said said to him back. When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding - " As Rosa helped herself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families "I'm half-and-half," said Seamus.

"My dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him." Which Rosa knew was a half lie because his step-father was a Muggle. The others laughed. "What about you, Neville?" said Ron. "Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all- Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad." On Rosa's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult-"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of  
thing - ").

Rosa, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy  
black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Rosa's eyes - and a sharp, hot pain shot across  
the scar on Rosa's forehead. "Ouch!" Rosa clapped a hand to her head.

"What is it?" asked Percy. "N-nothing just a small headache." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Rosa had gotten from the teacher's look - a small feeling that he didn't like Rosa at all. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy. "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape." Rosa watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at her again.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent. "Ahern - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. "First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins and Rosa got the feeling that they were Pranksters. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." Rosa laughed, but she was one of the few who did. "He's not serious?" she muttered to Percy. "Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the  
forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least." "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore.

Rosa noticed that the some of teachers' smiles had become rather fixed. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words. "Everyone pick their favourite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot.

Everybody finished the song at different times which Rosa found fun because it was just like the Campfire at camp which Rosa loved. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they  
had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest. "Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Rosa's legs were like lead again, but only because she was so tired and full of food.

She was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their  
feet, and Rosa was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt. A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him. "Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves - show yourself" A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered. "Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross- legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!" He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked. "Go away, Peeves, or the Baron will hear about this, I mean it!" barked  
Percy. Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on  
Neville's head, Poor Neville she thought. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armour as he passed. "You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are." At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said. "Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it - Neville needed a leg up - and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs. Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase - they were obviously in one of the towers - they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

"Great school, isn't it?" Hermione muttered to Rosa through the hangings. "Get off, Tank! He's chewing my sheets." Said their roommate Ashleigh, Rosa was going to ask Hermione if she'd had any of the treacle tart, but she fell asleep almost at once. Perhaps Rosa had eaten a bit too much, because she had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to her, telling her she must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was her destiny. Rosa told the turban she didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; she tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully - and there was someone in the shadows, laughing at her as she struggled with it -then the shadow's laugh became high and cold - there was a burst of green light and Rosa woke, sweating and shaking hoping it wasn't a demi-god dream. She rolled over and fell asleep again, and when she woke next day, she didn't remember the dream at all.

**I do not own Harry Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Four – The Sorting Hat**

* * *

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Rosa's first thought was that this was not someone to cross. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid."Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the camp but not the woods in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too  
high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Rosa could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right-the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They  
crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Rosa tried to flatten her hair. "I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly." She left the chamber. Rosa swallowed.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked Ron. "Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Rosa's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? Oh Gods In front of the whole if she has to read, oh my Gods, in front of the school? But she didn't know any wizard /witch magic yet - what on earth would she have to do? She hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived.

She looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Rosa tried hard not to listen to her. She'd never been more nervous, never, not even when she had turned Chiron blue.

She kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to her doom at this school. Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air - several people behind her screamed. "What the -?" She gasped. So did the people around her.

About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -" "My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered. "New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few people nodded mutely. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know." "Move along now," said a sharp voice.

"The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall. "Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me." Feeling oddly as though her legs had turned to lead, Rosa got into line behind a boy with sandy hair who she knew as Seamus Finnigan a Son of Hephaestus, with Ron behind her, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Rosa had never imagined Hogwarts as a strange and splendid place like Camp. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the  
top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them.

The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Rosa looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. She heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History." It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Rosa quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Silena wouldn't even let it Camp. Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Rosa thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing - noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, she stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:  
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. "So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Rosa. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll." Rosa smiled. Yes, trying on a hat was a lot better than having to fight a troll but she could beat it, but she did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching then she mentally slapped herself at that thought. The hat seemed to be asking rather alot; Rosa didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for her which caused her to give herself another metal slap.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!" A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails who was a sister of hers but she only came to camp in the summer, stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause - "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat which Rosa knew was a perfect fit for Hannah.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Rosa saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her. "Bones, Susan!" Wow another sister "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah who smiled at her. "Boot, Terry!" "RAVENCLAW!" The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

" Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" who was a daughter of Aphrodite became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Rosa could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling. "Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.

Perhaps it was Rosa's imagination, after all she'd heard about Slytherin, but she thought most of them looked like an unpleasant lot but there were a few who didn't . She was starting to feel definitely sick  
now. She remembered being picked for teams during Capture the Flag at Camp. She had always been last to be chosen, not because she was no good, but because during the school year she was one of the only campers in cabin #20 because during the school years before Hogwarts most of her siblings spent time with their families.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" "HUFFLEPUFF!" Sometimes, Rosa noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," sat on the stool for almost  
a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor. "Granger, Hermione!" Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. "GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

Ron groaned. A horrible thought struck Rosa, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if she wasn't chosen at all? What if she just sat there with the hat over her eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off her head and said there had been a mistake and she'd better get back on the train and get back to camp?

When Neville, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide  
with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag." She got sorted in to Ravenclaw,

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy went to join Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself to others but to those who knew him a bit scared. There weren't many people left now. "Lily Moon" who was a hunter became a Hufflepuff "Theodore Nott" who was a son of Athena and "Pansy Parkinson" a daughter of Ares became both Slytherin then a pair of twin girls who were twin daughters of Aphrodite, "Padma Patil" and "Parvati Patil" when to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor then "Perks, Sally-Anne" who became a Ravenclaw and then, at last - "Potter, Rosalinda!" As Rosa stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?" "The Rosalinda Potter?" The last thing Rosa saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her minus her friends from camp. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited. "Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, A my goodness a Greek demi-god daughter of Hecate as well, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?" Rosa gripped the edges of the stool and thought, I may have friends in Slytherin but everyone one thinks I will go to the same house as my farther and being in Gryffindor may be my last chance outside my mother and my half-sister, so not  
Slytherin.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that - no? Well, if you're sure - better be GRYFFINDOR!" Rosa heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. She took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. She was relieved to have been \put in Gryffindor so she could find out more about her farther, I mean having her mother and half-sister were something but to learn about him from other people was a good thing, she hardly noticed that she was getting the loudest cheer yet.

Percy the Prefect got up and shook her hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Rosa sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff she'd seen earlier. The ghost patted her arm, giving Rosa the sudden feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water. She could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest her sat Hagrid, who caught her eye and gave her the thumbs up. Rosa grinned at him. And there, in the centre of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore.

Rosa recognized him at once from the card she'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train and because he was one of her brothers after all. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Rosa spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban which she didn't see him wearing before when she meet him. And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron who was a son of Apollo, joined Rosa at the Gryffindor table who gave Rosa a small smile.

"Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Rosa crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"  
Rosa clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to her. "Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley said pompously across Rosa as "Zabini, Blaise," a son of Athena was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. Rosa looked down at her empty gold plate. She had only just realized how hungry she was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. "Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! "Thank you!" He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Rosa didn't know whether to laugh or not even if he was her brother.

"Is he - a bit mad?" she asked Percy uncertainly. "Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Rosalinda?" Rosa's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. She had never seen so many things unhealthy food to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

Camp had never ever starved Rosa, but they only served extra-lean-cut nymph-prepared BBQ, grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, and fresh bread. Rosa piled her plate with a bit of everything except the peppermint humbugs and began to eat. It was all delicious. "That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Rosa cut up her steak, "Can't you -?" I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower." "I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly.

"My brothers told me about you - you're Nearly Headless Nick!" "I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy -" the ghost began stiffly, but Seamus interrupted. "Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?" Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't  
going at all the way he wanted. "Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His  
whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly which was strange for her because even a five year old demigod could do better. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly  
Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So - new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost."

Rosa looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Draco who, Rosa was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements, Ha that was from the time you helped the Stolls put rats in my cabin even if you didn't know. "How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately but Rosa knew why 'He killed someone then killed himself because of it' she said telepathy to Seamus 'Why' said Seamus back 'That I don't know' said said to him back. When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding - " As Rosa helped herself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families "I'm half-and-half," said Seamus.

"My dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him." Which Rosa knew was a half lie because his step-father was a Muggle. The others laughed. "What about you, Neville?" said Ron. "Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all- Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad." On Rosa's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult-"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of  
thing - ").

Rosa, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy  
black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Rosa's eyes - and a sharp, hot pain shot across  
the scar on Rosa's forehead. "Ouch!" Rosa clapped a hand to her head.

"What is it?" asked Percy. "N-nothing just a small headache." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Rosa had gotten from the teacher's look - a small feeling that he didn't like Rosa at all. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy. "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape." Rosa watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at her again.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent. "Ahern - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. "First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins and Rosa got the feeling that they were Pranksters. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." Rosa laughed, but she was one of the few who did. "He's not serious?" she muttered to Percy. "Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the  
forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least." "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore.

Rosa noticed that the some of teachers' smiles had become rather fixed. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words. "Everyone pick their favourite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot.

Everybody finished the song at different times which Rosa found fun because it was just like the Campfire at camp which Rosa loved. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they  
had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest. "Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Rosa's legs were like lead again, but only because she was so tired and full of food.

She was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their  
feet, and Rosa was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt. A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him. "Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves - show yourself" A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered. "Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross- legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!" He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked. "Go away, Peeves, or the Baron will hear about this, I mean it!" barked  
Percy. Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on  
Neville's head, Poor Neville she thought. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armour as he passed. "You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are." At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said. "Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it - Neville needed a leg up - and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs. Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase - they were obviously in one of the towers - they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

"That was fascinating wasn't it?" Hermione muttered to Rosa through the hangings. "Get off, Tank! He's chewing my sheets." Said their roommate Ashleigh, Rosa was going to ask Hermione if she'd had any of the treacle tart, but she fell asleep almost at once. Perhaps Rosa had eaten a bit too much, because she had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to her, telling her she must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was her destiny. Rosa told the turban she didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; she tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully - and there was someone in the shadows, laughing at her as she struggled with it -then the shadow's laugh became high and cold - there was a burst of green light and Rosa woke, sweating and shaking hoping it wasn't a demi-god dream. She rolled over and fell asleep again, and when she woke next day, she didn't remember the dream at all.


	5. The Potions Master

**I do not own Harry Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Five – The Potions Master**

* * *

There, look." "Where?" "Next to the tall kid with the red hair." "Wearing the glasses?" "Did you see her face?" "Did you see her scar?" Whispers followed Rosa from the moment she left her dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at her, or doubled back to pass her in the corridors again, staring. Rosa wished they wouldn't, because she was trying to concentrate on finding her way to classes because she didn't have a Photo-Graphic Memory like her sister Cassiopeia who is two years older then her and goes to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic the sister school to Hogwarts in southern France. She learned from reading Hogwarts: A History there were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Rosa sensed that the coats of armour could walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!" Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Rosa and Ron managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of  
line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins and a group called the Marauders witch Nearly Headless Nick told her they when to Hogwarts when her father was at school) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Rosa quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words which was like Greek Magic but for that she didn't need a wand. They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets which Rosa loved. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up and with her ADHD and Dyslexia Rosa knew that History of Magic would be murder and from the look on her demi god friend's faces she knew they thought the same she was just thankful that the first spell she ever learned allowed her to turn her translate English into any Language she chose.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Rosa's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight. Professor McGonagall was again different. Rosa had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a  
talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class. "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they  
weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time.

After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger and Rosa had made any difference to their matches; Professor McGonagall showed the class how they had gone all silver and pointy and  
gave Hermione and Rosa a rare smile. The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days.

His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story and Rosa knew she didn't believe it at all. For one thing, when Seamus asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Rosa was very relieved to find out that she wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like her, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Rosa and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What have we got today?" Rosa asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge. "Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favours them - we'll be able to see if it's true." "Wish McGonagall favored us, "said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Just then, the mail arrived. Rosa had gotten used to this by now, but it had given her a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Hedwig hadn't brought Rosa anything so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble her ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped two notes onto Rosa's plate. Rosa tore the first open at once and slipped the second one in her bag. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:  
Dear Rosa,  
I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I know you don't know me but I was the one who took you from the ruins of your parent's house in Godric's Hollow and I would like to tell you story's about your parents. Send me an answer back with Hedwig, Hagrid.  
Rosa grabbed a quill out of her bag and scribbled Yes, please, see you later on the  
back of the note, and sent Hedwig off again. It was lucky that Rosa had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to  
her so far. At the start-of-term banquet, Rosa had gotten the idea that Professor Snape disliked her. By the end of the first Potions lesson, she knew she'd been right. Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Rosa's name. "Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Rosalinda Potter. Our new - celebrity." Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands while Draco gave a small frown that Rosa knew only that only his friends could see. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class.

His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of  
potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach  
you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." More silence followed this little speech.

Rosa and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead. "Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"  
Powdered asphodel to an infusion of wormwood, um I know? Rosa glanced at Ron, who looked stumped; Hermione's hand had shot into the air. "I think its Draught of Living Death sir," said Harry.  
"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Rosa knew what a bezoar was because of the Satyrs at camp. "Stomach of a Goat, sir." Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling. "I don't know this one sir," said Rosa quietly. Snape, however, was not pleased. "Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?" There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be given to Gryffindor House for your answers, Potter." Things didn't improve for the Gryffindor from there as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils.

He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. "Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose. "Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville. "You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's a point you've lost for Gryffindor." This was so unfair that Rosa opened her mouth to argue, but Ron kicked her behind their cauldron. "Don't push it," he muttered, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty." As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Rosa's mind was racing and his spirits were low. She'd lost a points for Gryffindor in her very first week - why did Snape dislike her, she didn't do anything to him? "Cheer up," said Ron, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"

At five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door. When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang - back." Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open. "Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang." He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked. "This is Ron," Rosa told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate. "Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest." The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but Rosa and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first -lessons. Fang rested his head on Rosa's knee and drooled all over his robes.

Rosa and Ron were delighted to hear Hagrid call Fitch "that old git." "An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her - Fitch puts her up to it." Rosa told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students. "But he seemed to really dislike me." "Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?" Yet Rosa couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet her eyes when he said that. "How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot - great with animals." Rosa wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet:

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST  
Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. "But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this  
afternoon.

Rosa remembered Ron telling her on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date. "Hagrid!" said Harry, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while I was there!" There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Rosa's eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake. Rosa read the story again. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Rosa's Mother had got something form the vault seven hundred and thirteen, when she was getting her robes. Was the thing her mother taken been what the thieves were looking for? As Rosa and Ron walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse, Rosa thought that none of the lessons she'd had so far had given her as much to think about as tea with Hagrid. Had her mother collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell Rosa?


	6. The Midnight Meeting

**I do not own Harry Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Six – The Midnight Meeting**

* * *

Rosa had never believed she would meet a someone she hated more than Mr. D but then again what camper besides his kids likes him, but that was before she met Crabbe and Goyle she didn't know how they could be so mean and at the same time so dumb, I mean come on Clarisse is nicer and smarter than them. Still, first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn't have to put up with them much. Or at least, they didn't until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday - and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Typical," said Rosa "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy." She had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else. "You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk." Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot which Rosa knew was an act. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters.

He wasn't the only one, though: the way Seamus told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick which was a huge lie. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared his dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Rosa who had when to talk to Dean and Seamus had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of Long Island Rough Riders soccer team, trying to make the players move much to Dean's annoyance, she knew because she could see his eye twitch.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Rosa felt she'd had good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground and like with most demigods that were not children of Zeus it was a very bad idea for them to be in the sky. Hermione Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book - not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all stupid with flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages. Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was very pleased when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

Rosa hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note and the other note which she read after her visit to Hagrid's and tonight was a school wide demigod meeting, something that Draco's had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table and she never knew Draco was such a good actor.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke. "It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red - oh..." His face fell, because the  
Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "You've forgotten something..." Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand. Rosa and Ron jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?" "Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor." Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table. "Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him. At three-thirty that afternoon, Rosa, Ron, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn  
on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance. The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Rosa had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left. Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." Rosa glanced down at her broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles. "Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!"' "UPF everyone shouted. Rosa's broom jumped into her hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Rosa; there was a quaver in Neville's  
voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Ron was delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years. "Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three - two -" But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a  
cork shot out of a bottle - twelve feet - twenty feet. Rosa saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and - WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight. Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his. "Broken wrist," Rosa heard her mutter. "Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get." She turned to the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear." Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?" The other Slytherins joined in. "Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil. "Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry-babies, Parvati." "Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the  
grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up. "Give that here, Malfoy," said Rosa quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch. Malfoy smiled nastily. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?" "Give it here!" Rosa yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off a bit white. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!" Rosa grabbed her broom.

"No!" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble." Rosa ignored her. Blood was pounding in her ears a tiny bit scared but knew she would be safe because of her mother. She mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up she soared; air rushed through her hair, and his robes whipped out behind him -and in a rush of fierce joy she realized she'd found something she could do without being taught like basic Greek magic - this was easy, this was wonderful. She pulled her broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron. She turned her broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in mid-air. Malfoy looked stunned. "Give it here," Rosa called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!" "Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

Rosa knew, somehow, what to do. She leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Rosa made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping. "No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Rosa called. The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy. "Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground. Rosa saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. She leaned forward and pointed her broom handle down - next second she was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball - wind whistled in her ears, mingled with the screams of people watching - she stretched out her hand - a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull her broom straight, and she toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in her fist. "ROSALINDA POTTER!" Her heart sank faster than he'd just dived. Professor McGonagall was running toward them. She got to her feet, trembling. "Never - in all my time at Hogwarts -" Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "- how dare you - might have broken your neck -" "It wasn't his fault, Professor - " "Be quiet, Miss Patil "But Malfoy -" "That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now." Rosa caught sight of Crabbe and Goyle's triumphant faces as she left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode toward the castle.

She was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with her voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at her; she had to jog to keep up. Now she'd done it. She hadn't even lasted two weeks. She'd be packing her bags in ten minutes. This might be her only chance to see the outside world outside of camp other than a quest. Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside and still Professor McGonagall didn't say a word to her. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Rosa trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking her to Dumbledore. She thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper, he had told her yesterday when she visited him. Perhaps she could be Hagrid's assistant. Her stomach twisted as she imagined it, watching Ron and her friends and the others becoming wizards, while she stumped around the grounds carrying Hagrid's bag. Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside. "Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?" Wood? thought Rosa, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on her? But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwicles class looking confused. "Follow me, you two," said Professor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Rosa. "In here." Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard. "Out, Peeves!" she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two of them.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood - I've found you a Seeker." Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight. "Are you serious, Professor?" "Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "The girl's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?" Rosa nodded silently. She didn't have a clue what was going on, but she didn't seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to her legs. "She caught that thing in her hand after a fifty-foot dive," Professor McGonagall told Wood. "Didn't even scratch herself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it." Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. "Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" he asked excitedly. "Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained. "She's just the build for a Seeker, too," said Wood, now walking around Rosa and staring at her. "Light - speedy - we'll have to get her a decent broom, Professor - a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say." I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks..." Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Rosa. "I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you." Then she suddenly smiled. "Your father would have been proud," she said. "He was an excellent Quidditch player himself." "You're joking." It was dinnertime. Rosa had just finished telling Ron what had happened  
when she'd left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he'd forgotten all about it.

"Seeker?" he said. "But first years never - you must be the youngest house player in about a century, said Rosa, shovelling pie into her mouth. He felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. "Wood told me." Ron was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat and gaped at Rosa. "I start training next week," said Rosa. "Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret." Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Rosa, and hurried over. "Well done," said George in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too - Beaters." "I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Rosa, Wood was almost skipping  
when he told us." "Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret  
passageway out of the school." "Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you." Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. "Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?" "You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Rosa coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl. Malfoy scowled and left gone, All the same, it wasn't what you'd call the perfect end to the day, Rosa thought, as she laid awake much later listening to Lavender and Parvati fake sleeping (Fey wasn't back from the hospital wing she fell down the stairs, Poor Fey). She couldn't miss the demigod meeting.

"Half-past eleven," Lavender muttered to her and Parvati at last, "we'd better go." They pulled on their bathrobes, picked up their wands, and crept across the tower room, down the spiral staircase, and into the Gryffindor common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning  
all the armchairs into hunched black shadows. They had reached the portrait hole and left when Lav spoke "I can't wait to find out who all them demigod, Rosa." They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn Rosa expected to run into Filch or Mrs.  
Norris, but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the seventh floor and tiptoed toward to the meeting room.

The others weren't there yet. Rosa paced in front of the wall three times and the door appeared and the three of them walked in and crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They walked over to the 20 large sofa's in the middle that were arranged in a circle with a small square fireplace in the middle of the sofa's, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. The minutes crept by. Then a large group of demigods walked in. "Hi guys, it's been a while" It was Kaia Johnson speaking she was a daughter of Poseidon and guarded a magic pearl "Ok everyone please sit down on the chairs that has your camp banner on it. Some of them demigods walked over to where she was sitting under the banner of two crossed wands "Hi Rosa" said Hannah.

"Ok everyone, now to the new demigods here at Hogwarts, Welcome and to the older demigods welcome back" said Kaia happily "Ok first we will go around and tell everyone here something about ourselves, I will start My full name is Kaia Pearlina Coral Lulu Calli Johnson, I'm a daughter of Poseidon God of Earthquakes and Horses, God of the Seas and King of Atlantis and a mortal named Yasmine Aurora Johnson, I am the Guardian of the Pearl of Immortality, I was also born before the oath" said Kaia and then Draco stood and said "I'm Draco Malfoy, I'm a son of Athena and sorry if I'm mean my farther wants me to be a death eater so I gotta act all mean" "Ok, names Neville Longbottom and I'm a son of Demeter" "My Turn, I'm Parvati Patil a daughter of Aphrodite, this is my twin sister Padma Patil who is also a Daughter of Aphrodite and my best friend/sister Lavender Brown" said Parvati "Hi, my name is Hannah Abbott and this is Susan Bones and where both daughters of Hecate" said Hannah "Hello I'm Daphne Greengrass a daughter of Demeter and I also have a younger full sister who will start in 2 years" said Daphne.

"Name is Pansy Parkinson Punks, daughter of Ares" said Pansy bravely "I'm Millicent Bulstrode - Daughter of Mars who is the Roman Ares" said Millicent "Roman?" said Susan "Ok everyone please, yes Romans go to Hogwarts and the reason we didn't know about them was because the last time Greek demigods and Roman demigods were together World War 2 Happened and the Gods made Chiron who is the Greek's Trainer and Lupa who is the Roman Trainer to swear not to reveal it, ok so everyone swear on the River Styx not to revealed to demigods who don't know and to form a truce" said Kaia and after all the demigods in the room sweared on the River Styx "Ok, lets continue"

"Oliver Wood, son of Bacchus who is the Roman Dionysus" said Oliver "Angelina Johnson that is Alicia Spinnet and Kaite Bell and were all daughters of Hermes" said Angelina "Dean Thomas son of Apollo and this is my best Seamus Finnigan who is a son of Hephaestus" said Dean "I'm Sally-Anne Perks daughter of Mars and this is Lily and Leanne Moon who are both Hunters of Artemis, Lily is a daughter of Triton and Leanne is a daughter of Tyche" said Sally "Names Zacharias Smith, son of Mercury who is Roman Hermes" said Zach " My name is Cedric Diggory also a son of Mercury and this is my girlfriend Cho Chang a daughter of Venus who is Roman Aphrodite" said Cedric "I am Justin Finch-Fletchley a Son of Trivia who is Roman Hecate and this is Terry Boot son of Minerva who is Roman Athena, My sister Mandy Brocklehurst and that's Michael Corner son of Hermes" "I'm Penelope Clearwater daughter of Phoebus who is Roman Apollo and this is my boyfriend Percy Weasley - who is a son of Dionysus" said Penelope "I'm Lisa Turpin a daughter of Venus and this is my sister Sue Li and our friend Tracey Davis who is a daughter of Hestia" said Lisa "Theodore Nott son of Athena and my brother Blaise Zabini" said Theodore "George Weasley son of Mercury and this is my twin Fred Weasley and our brother Lee Jordan" said George "Cormac McLaggen son of Ares and this is Anthony Goldstein son of Ancient Egyptian Goddess Neith who is Goddess of Hunting, Weaving and Pockets" Cormac said "Rionach O'Neal daughter of Pomona and this is Marietta Edgecombe daughter of Eris" said Rionach "Your turn Rosa" said Kaia "Ok, my name is Rosalinda Potter and I'm a daughter of Hecate" "Ok now that we all know each other" said Kaia "Are some of the teachers demigods" said Pansy "Yes" said Kaia.

"Poppy Pomfrey daughter of Phoebus, Sybill Trelawney daughter of Apollo, Pomona Sprout daughter of Ceres, Silvanus Kettleburn son of Janus, Aurora Sinistra - Daughter of Selene, Irma Pince daughter of Athena, Chrysta Ambrosia - Daughter of Egyptian God Ra, Albus Dumbledore son of Hecate, Severus Snape son of Hades and Minerva McGonagall daughter of Minerva" said Kaia "Now it's late lets head back to our common rooms" said Kaia as she stood up and started walking to the door "Bye everyone" they all said as they spit up. Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Rosa had only just raised her wand when they heard someone speak. "Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner." It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Horror-struck, Rosa waved madly  
at the other two to follow her as quickly as possible; they scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Parvati's robes had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the room they were just in. "They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding." "This way!" Rosa mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armour. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Lavender let out a frightened squeak as she tripped and toppled right into a suit of armour. The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle. "RUN!" Rosa yelled, and the three of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following - they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Rosa in the lead, without any idea where they were or where they were going - they ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled  
along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the room they were just in and floors down too.

"I think we've lost him," Rosa panted, leaning against the cold wall  
and wiping her forehead. Parvati was bent over panting. "We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," said Lavender, "quickly as possible." "Let's go." It wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a  
classroom in front of them. It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.  
"Shut up, Peeves - please - you'll get us thrown out." Peeves cackled. "Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty." "Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please." "Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his  
eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know." "Get out of the way," snapped Lavender, taking a swipe at Peeves this was a big mistake. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR" Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door - and it was locked.

"This is it!" Lavender moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!" They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves's shouts. "Oh, move over," Rosa snarled. She grabbed her wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, 'Alohomora!" The lock clicked and the door swung open - they piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening. "Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick, tell me." "Say 'please."' "Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?" "Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice. "All right -please." "NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.

"He thinks this door is locked," Rosa whispered. "I think we'll be okay - get off, Parvati!" For Parvati had been tugging on the sleeve of Rosa's bathrobe for the last minute. "What?" Rosa turned around - and saw, quite clearly, what. They weren't in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden. They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous Cerberus, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Rosa knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that the is sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

Rosa groped for the doorknob - between Filch and death, she'd take Filch. They fell backward - Rosa slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared - all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor. "Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their bathrobes hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces. "Never mind that - pig snout, pig snout," panted Rosa, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs. It was a while before any of them said anything. Parvati, indeed, looked as if she'd never speak again. "What do they think they're doing, keeping a Cerberus like that locked up in a school?" said Parvati finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does." Lavender had got both her breath back again. "Didn't you see what it was standing on." "The floor?" Rosa suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads." "No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something." She stood up. "It's late let's get to bed" But Lavender had given Rosa something else to think about as she climbed back into bed. The dog was guarding something... What had Hagrid and her mother said? Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide - except perhaps Hogwarts. It looked as though Rosa had found out where the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was.


	7. Halloween

**I do not own Rosa Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Seven – Halloween**

* * *

Rosa filled Ron in about the package and the three-headed dog that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts and she worded how she found the dog making it sound as she went for a walk and found opened the wrong door, and they spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection. "It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron. "Or both," said Rosa. But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues. Hermione was refusing to speak to Rosa and Ron, but she was such a bossy know-it-all that they saw this as an added bonus. All Ron really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later. As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls.

Rosa was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking her breakfast to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel. Rosa ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said: DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE. It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session. Professor McGonagall Rosa had difficulty hiding her glee as she handed the note to Ron to read. "A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even touched one." They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Rosa and felt it.

"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Rosa with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them." Ron couldn't resist it. "It's not any old broomstick," he said, "It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Rosa. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus." "What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig." Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.  
"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked. "Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Rosa. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?" "A Nimbus Two Thousand, sit," said Rosa, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face which looked really funny. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added. Rosa and Ron headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion. "Well, it's true," Rosa chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase, "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team..." "So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Rosa's hand. "I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Rosa. "Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good." Hermione marched away with her nose in the air.

Rosa had a lot of trouble keeping her mind on her lessons that day. It kept wandering up to the dormitory where her new broomstick was lying under her bed, or straying off to the Quidditch field where she'd be learning to play that night. She bolted her dinner which was Fish and Chips and for dessert Fruit Salad that evening and then rushed upstairs with Ron to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand at last. "Wow," Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Rosa's bedspread. Even Rosa, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top. As seven o'clock drew nearer, Rosa left the castle and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. Held never been inside the stadium before. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the field were three golden poles with hoops on the end. They reminded Rosa of the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through, except that they were fifty feet high. Too eager to fly again to wait for Wood, Rosa mounted her broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling - she swooped in and out of the goal posts and then sped up and down the field. The Nimbus Two Thousand turned wherever she wanted at her lightest touch.  
"Hey, Rosa, come down!' Oliver Wood had arrived. He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. Rosa landed next to him. "Very nice," said Wood, his eyes glinting. "I see what McGonagall meant... you really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practice three times a week."  
He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls.

"Right," said Oliver "Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers." "Three Chasers," Rosa repeated, as Oliver took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball. "This ball's called the Quaffle," said Oliver "The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?" "The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score," Rosa recited. "So - that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?" "Yep, just in the air" said Oliver. "Cool so what's next," said Rosa "Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper -I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring." "Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Rosa, who was determined to remember it all. "And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?" He pointed at the three balls left inside the box. "I'll show you now," said Wood. "Take this." He handed Rosa a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat.

"I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do," Oliver said. "These two are the Bludgers." He showed Rosa two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Rosa noticed that they seemed to be straining to  
escape the straps holding them inside the box. "Stand back," Oliver warned Rosa. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers. At once, the black ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at Rosa's face. Rosa swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking her nose, and sent it zigzagging away into the air - it zoomed around  
their heads and then shot at Oliver, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground. "See?" Oliver panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely. "The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team - the Weasley twins are ours - it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So - think you've got all that?" "Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the  
goal posts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," Rosa reeled off. "Very good," said Oliver. "Er - have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Rosa asked. "Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers unless they crack my head open."

"Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers – I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves." Oliver reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings. "This," said Wood, "is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages - I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep. "Well, that's it – any questions?" Rosa shook her head. She understood what she had to do all right, it was  
doing it that was going to be the problem. "We won't practice with the Snitch yet," said Oliver, carefully shutting  
it back inside the crate, "it's too dark, we might lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these." He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket and a few minutes later, he and Rosa were up in the air, Oliver throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Rosa to catch. Rosa didn't miss a single one, and Oliver was delighted. After half an hour, night had really fallen and they couldn't carry on. "That Quidditch cup will have our name on it this year," said Oliver happily as they trudged back up to the castle.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons." Perhaps it was because he was now so busy, what with Quidditch practice  
three evenings a week on top of all his homework, but Rosa could hardly believe it when she realized that she'd already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt like home just camp. Her lessons, too, were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics. On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced  
in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad Trevor zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Rosa's partner was Seamus.

Ron, however, was to be working with Hermione Granger. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this. She hadn't spoken to either of them since the day Rosa's broomstick had arrived. "Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest." It was very difficult. Rosa and Seamus swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. Seamus got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it - Rosa had to put it out with her hat. Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill. "You're saying it wrong," Rosa heard Hermione snap. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long." "You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled. Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"  
Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads. "Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!" Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class. "It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Rosa as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly." Someone knocked into Rosa as they hurried past her. It was Hermione. Rosa caught a glimpse of her face — and was startled to see that she was in tears. "I think she heard you." "So?" said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends." "Don't be mean," said Rosa, wondering if she could go after her, but she didn't know whether she would want Rosa' presence.

Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Rosa and Ron overheard Parvati telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone. Ron looked still more awkward at this, but a moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Hermione out of their minds. A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet. Rosa was just helping herself to a baked potato when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll - in the dungeons - thought you ought to know." He then sank to the floor in a dead faint. There was uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence. "Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories  
immediately!" Percy was in his element. "Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"  
"How could a troll get in?" Rosa asked as they climbed the stairs. "Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Ron. "Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."

They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Rosa suddenly grabbed Ron's arm. "I've just thought - Hermione." "What about her?" "She doesn't know about the troll." Ron bit his lip. "Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy better not see us." Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them. "Percy!" hissed Ron, pulling Rosa behind a large stone griffin. Peering around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view. "What's he doing?" Rosa whispered. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?" "Search me." Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps. "He's heading for the third floor," Rosa said, but Ron held up his hand. "Can you smell something?" Rosa sniffed and a foul stench reached her nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean. And then they heard it - a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron pointed - at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving toward them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight.

It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long as soon as Rosa saw it her hand when to her neck, Oh Gods she forgot her necklace of all the days to forget her necklace there had to be a fully grown mountain troll. The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room. "The keys in the lock," Rosa muttered. "We could lock it in." "Good idea," said Ron nervously. They edged toward the open door, mouths dry, praying the troll wasn't about to come out of it. With one great leap, Rosa managed to grab the key, slam the door, and lock it. "Yes!" Flushed with their victory, they started to run back up the passage, but as they reached the corner they heard something that made their hearts stop - a high, petrified scream - and it was coming from the chamber they'd just chained up. "Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron. "It's the girls' bathroom!" Rosa gasped. "Hermione!" they said together. It was the last thing they wanted to do, but what choice did they have? Wheeling around, they sprinted back to the door and turned the key, fumbling in their panic. Rosa pulled the door open and they ran inside.

Hermione Granger was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went. "Confuse it!" Rosa said to Ron knowing how to defeat trolls from monster fighting class, seizing a tap, she threw it as hard as she could against the wall. The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Rosa. It hesitated, then made for her instead, lifting its club as it went. "Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Rosa time to run around it. "Come on, run, run!" Rosa yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her toward  
the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror. The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

Rosa then did something that was both very brave and very stupid but like Percy said stupid ideas were something the best: She took a great running jump using a small bit of her magic to jump and managed to fasten her arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Rosa hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Rosa's wand had still been in her hand when she'd jumped - it  
had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils. Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Rosa  
clinging on; any second, the troll was going to rip her off or catch her a terrible blow with the club. Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright; Ron pulled out his own wand - not knowing what he was going to do he heard himself cry the first spell that came into his head: "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over - and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble. Rosa got to her feet. She was out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done. It was Hermione who spoke first. "Is it - dead?" "No," said Rosa, "It's just been knocked out." She bent down and pulled her wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered  
in what looked like lumpy gray glue. "Ugh - troll boogers." she wiped it on the troll's trousers like she would wipe it on her skirt. A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart. Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and  
Rosa. Rosa had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Rosa's mind.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Rosa looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in  
your dormitory?" Snape gave Rosa a swift, piercing look. Rosa looked at the floor. She wished Ron would put his wand down. Then a small voice came out of the shadows. "Please, Professor McGonagall - they were looking for me." "Miss Granger!" Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last. I went looking for the troll because I - I thought I could deal with it on my own - you know, because I've read all about them." Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher? "If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Rosa stuck her wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived." Rosa and Ron tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them well Rosa could do it very easy after all her best friend was a son of Hermes. "Well - in that case..." said Professor McGonagall, staring at the three of them, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?" Hermione hung her head.

Rosa was speechless. Hermione was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get them out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets. "Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses." Hermione left. Professor McGonagall turned to Rosa and Ron. "Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go." They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until they had  
climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else. "We should have gotten more than ten points," Ron grumbled. "Five, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's." "Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her." "She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," Rosa reminded him. They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Pig snout," they said and entered. The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for them. There was a very embarrassed pause. Then, none of them looking at each other, they all said "Thanks," and hurried off to get plates. But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.


	8. Quidditch

**I do not own Rosa Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Eight – Quidditch**

* * *

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots. The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Rosa would be playing in her first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the house championship.  
Hardly anyone had seen Rosa play because Oliver had decided that, as their secret weapon, Rosa should be kept, well, secret. But the news that she was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, and Rosa didn't know which was worse - people telling her she'd be brilliant or people telling her they'd be running around underneath her holding a mattress which would be helpful if she did fall. It was really lucky that Rosa now had Hermione as a friend. She didn't know how he'd have gotten through all his homework without her, what with all the last-minute Quidditch practice Wood was making them do. She had also lent him Quidditch Through the Ages, which turned out to be a very interesting read.

Rosa learned that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest  
players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert. Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Rosa and Ron had saved her from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it. The day before Rosa's first Quidditch match the three of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar which Hermione taught Rosa who could make silver which Hermione didn't know.

They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Rosa noticed at once that Snape was limping. Rosa, Ron, and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about Ron and Hermione guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway. "What's that you've got there, Potter?" It was Quidditch Through the Ages. Rosa showed him. "Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor." "He's just made that rule up," Rosa muttered angrily as Snape limped away. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?" "Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," said Ron bitterly "Ron I may not like him but don't insult a teacher!" Rosa yelled and he is my family sort of thought Rosa.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Rosa, Ron, and Hermione sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking Rosa and Ron's Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy ("How will you learn?"), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right  
answers anyway, curse you dyslexia Rosa thought her eye twitching slightly. Rosa felt restless. She wanted Quidditch Through the Ages back, to take her mind off her nerves about tomorrow. Why should she be afraid of Snape minus the fact he is a son of Hades? Getting up, she told Ron and Hermione she was going to ask Snape if she could have it. "Better you than me," they said together, but Rosa had an idea that Snape wouldn't refuse if there were other teachers listening.  
She made her way down to the staffroom and knocked. There was no answer.

She knocked again. Nothing. Perhaps Snape had left the book in there? It was worth a try. She pushed the door ajar and peered inside - and a horrible scene met her eyes. Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages. "Blasted thing*," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once and it's not trained?" Rosa tried to shut the door quietly, but - "POTTER!" Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to  
hide his leg. Rosa gulped. "I just wondered if I could have my book back sir." "GET OUT! OUT!" Rosa left, before Snape could take any more points from Gryffindor. She sprinted back upstairs. "Did you get it?" Ron asked as Rosa joined them. "What's the matter?" In a low whisper, Rosa told them what she'd seen.

"You know what this means?" she finished breathlessly. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him - he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!" Hermione's eyes were wide. "No - he wouldn't, she know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe." "Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron. "I'm with Rosa. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?" Rosa went to bed with her head buzzing with the same question. Fey was snoring loudly, but Rosa couldn't sleep. She tried to empty her mind - she needed to sleep, she had to, she had her first Quidditch match in a few hours - but the expression on Snape's face when Rosa had seen his  
leg wasn't easy to forget.

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match. "You've got to eat some breakfast." "I don't want anything." "Just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione. "I'm not hungry." Rosa felt terrible. In an hour's time she'd be walking onto the field. "Rosa, you need your strength," said Seamus. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team." "Thanks, Seamus," said Rosa, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages as she grabbed some fruit. By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean in the top row. As a surprise for Rosa, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Ron's (Shudder) rat Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colours. Meanwhile, in the locker room, Rosa and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes (Slytherin would be playing in green). Oliver cleared his throat for silence. "Okay, men," he said. "And women," said Chaser Angelina. "And women," Oliver agreed. "This is it." "The big one," said Fred. "The one we've all been waiting for," said George. "We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Rosa, "we were on the team last year." "Shut up, you two," said Oliver. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it." He glared at them all as if to say, "Or else." "Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you." Rosa followed Fred and George out of the locker room and, hoping her knees weren't going to give way, walked onto the field to loud cheers.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand. "Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Rosa noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a sixth year. Rosa thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Out of the  
corner of her eye she saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. Her heart skipped. She felt braver. "Mount your brooms, please." Rosa clambered onto her Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off. "And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too -" "JORDAN!"  
"Sorry, Professor." The Weasley twins' friend, Lee, was doing the commentary for the  
match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin  
Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes - Flint flying like an eagle up there - he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle - that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger - Quaffle taken by the Slytherins - that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which from here - nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes - she's really flying - dodges a speeding Bludger - the goal posts are ahead - come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins. "Budge up there, move along." "Hagrid!" Ron and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them. "Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?" "Nope," said Ron. "Rosa hasn't had much to do yet." "Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," said Hagrid, raising his  
binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Rosa. Way up above them, Rosa was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of her and Wood's game plan. "Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch," Wood had said. "We don't want you attacked before you have to be." When Angelina had scored, Rosa had done a couple of loop-the-loops to let off her feelings. Now she was back to staring around for the Snitch.

Once she caught sight of a flash of gold, but it was just a reflection from one of the Weasleys' wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Rosa dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it. "All right there, Rosa?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward Marcus Flint. "Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the - wait a moment - was that the Snitch?" A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his  
left ear. Rosa saw it. In a great rush of excitement she dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch -all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in mid-air to  
watch.

Rosa was faster than Higgs - she could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead - - she put on an extra spurt of speed - WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below - Marcus Flint had blocked Rosa on purpose, and Rosa's broom spun off course, Rosa  
holding on for dear life. "Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors. Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again. Down in the stands, Dean was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!" "What are you talking about, Dean?" said Ron. "Red card!" said Dean furiously. "In soccer you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!" "But this isn't soccer, Dean," Ron reminded him. Hagrid, however, was on Dean's side. "They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Rosa outta the air."

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides. "So - after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating "Jordan!" growled Professor mean, after that open and revolting foul 'Jordan, I'm warning you -" "All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession." It was as Rosa dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past her head, that it happened. Her broom gave a sudden, frightening  
lurch. For a split second, she thought she was going to fall. She gripped the broom tightly with both her hands and knees. She'd never felt anything like that.

It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck her off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Rosa tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goal- posts - she had half a mind to ask Oliver to call time-out - and then she  
realized that her broom was completely out of her control. She couldn't turn it. She couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated her. Lee was still commentating. "Slytherin in possession - Flint with the Quaffle - passes Spinnet - passes Bell - hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose - only joking, Professor - Slytherins score - A no... The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Rosa's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying- her slowly higher, away  
from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

"Dunno what Rosa thinks she's doing," Hagrid mumbled. He stared through  
his binoculars. "If I didn' know better, I'd say she'd lost control of  
her broom... but she can't have..." Suddenly, people were pointing up at Rosa all over the stands. Her  
broom had started to roll over and over, with her only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Rosa's broom had given a wild jerk and Rosa swung off it. She was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand, Curse whoever is doing this thought Rosa. "Did something happen to it when Flint blocked her?" Seamus whispered. "Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic - no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand." At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Rosa, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, gray-faced. "I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape - look." Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Rosa and was muttering nonstop under his breath. "He's doing something - jinxing the broom," said Hermione. "What should we do?" "Leave it to me." Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Rosa. Her broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for her to hang on much longer if she wasn't a demigod she was sure she'd have fallen by now. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Rosa safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good - every time  
they got near her, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath her, obviously hoping to catch her if she fell.

Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing. "Come on, Hermione," Ron muttered desperately. Hermione had fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood, and  
was now racing along the row behind him; she didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well- chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes. It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row - Snape would never know what had happened. It was enough. Up in the air, Rosa was suddenly able to clamber back on to her broom. "Neville, you can look!" Ron said. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes not wanting one of his good friends to die. Rosa was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw her clap her hand to her mouth as though she was about to be sick - she hit the field on all fours - coughed - and something gold fell into her hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" she shouted, waving it above her head, and the game ended in complete confusion. "She didn't catch it, she nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference - Rosa hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results - Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Rosa heard none of this, though. She was being made a cup of strong tea with honey back in Hagrid's hut which she drowned down, with Ron and Hermione. "It was Snape," Ron was explaining, "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you." "Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?" Rosa, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another, wondering what to tell  
him. Rosa decided on the truth.

"I found out something about him," she told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."  
Hagrid dropped the teapot. "How do you know about Fluffy?" he said. "Fluffy?" "Yeah - he's mine - bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year - I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the "Yes?" said Rosa eagerly. "Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret,  
that is." "But Snape's trying to steal it." "Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort." "So why did he just try and kill Rosa?" cried Hermione. The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape. I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!" "I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Rosa's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh - yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel -" "Aha!" said Rosa, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?" Hagrid looked furious with himself.


	9. The Mirror of Erised

**I do not own Rosa Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Nine – The Mirror of Erised**

* * *

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again. No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home." He was looking over at Rosa as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Rosa, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them. Malfoy had been acting even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Rosa as Seeker next. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Rosa had managed to stay on her bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, acting jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Rosa about having no proper family while Rosa knew was an act it still hurt sometimes.

It was true that Rosa wasn't going back to camp for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Rosa had signed up at once wanting to see Hogwarts at Christmas. Ron and his brothers were staying, too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie who she found out was a son of Hephaestus. When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches. "Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron." "Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoys cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose - that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to." Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs. "WEASLEY!" Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes. "He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family." "Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you." Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.

"I'll get him," said Ron, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him -" "I hate them both," said Rosa, "Malfoy and Snape." "Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat." So the three of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to -the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations. "Ah, Hagrid, the last tree - put it in the far corner, would you?" The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles. "How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked. "Just one," said Hermione. "And that reminds me -Rosa, Ron, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library." "Oh yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

"The library?" said Hagrid, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?" "Oh, we're not working," Rosa told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is." "You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here - I've told yeh – drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'." "We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hermione. "Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Rosa added. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere - just give us a hint - I know I've read his name somewhere." I know he is a brother of mine but that's all Mum didn't say much about him thought Rosa, "I'm sayin' nothin, said Hagrid flatly. "Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows a child of Athena/Minerva best dream. Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Rosa wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and she knew she'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"What are you looking for, Rosa?" said Madam Pince"A Book on Nicolas Flamel," said Rosa."Oh looking up it for history?" said Madam Pince as she walked over to a bookshelf and gave Rosa a stack of six books "Thanks Madam Pince" as she checked the books out and put them in her leftthe library. Ron and Hermione had already agreed they'd better notask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd beable to tell them, but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they wereup waited outside in the corridor to see if the other two had foundanything not telling them about the books she just checked out. They had been looking for twoweeks, after all, but as they only had odd moments between lessons itwasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really needed was anice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their minutes later, Ron and Hermione joined her, shaking their went off to lunch.

"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" said Hermione. "And send me an owl if you find anything." "And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," said Ron. "It'd be safe to ask them." "Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione. Once the holidays had started, Ron and Rosa were having too good a time to think much about Flamel. They had the dormitory to themselves and the common room was far emptier than usual, so they were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. They sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork - bread, English muffins, marshmallows - and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work.

Ron also started teaching Rosa wizard chess. This was exactly like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Ron's set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it had once belonged to someone else in his family - in this case, his grandfather. However, old chessmen weren't a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted. Rosa played with chessmen Seamus had lent her, and they didn't trust her at all. She wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing. "Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him." On Christmas Eve, Rosa went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun.

When she woke early in the morning, however, the first thing she saw was a large pile of packages at the foot of her bed. Rosa scrambled out of her bed, pulled on her bathrobe and grabbed as many as she could carry and put the rest in a large bag which she took with her "Merry Christmas," said Ron sleepily as Rosa walked into his dorm and woke him up. "You, too," said Rosa. "Will you look at this? I've got some presents!" "What did you expect, turnips?" said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a bit smaller then Rosa. Rosa picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Rosa, from Hagrid. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Rosa blew it - it sounded a bit like an owl. A second, very small parcel contained a box and a fifty-pence piece.

"Wow" said Rosa as she opened the box to a beautiful sliver locket with pearls and her birthstone peridots (Photo of Locket on Profile) and a note which she opened and the note said: To Rosa thought you would like this Merry Christmas, Luke which caused her to blush as she put it on. Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence. "Weird!" he said, 'What a shape! This is money?" "You can keep it," said Rosa, laughing at how pleased Ron was. "Hagrid and my friend Luke - so who sent these?" "I think I know who that one's from," said Ron, turning a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My mom. I told her you didn't expect many presents and - oh, no," he groaned, "she's made you a Weasley sweater." Rosa had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge.

"Every year she makes us a sweater," said Ron, unwrapping his own, "and mine's always maroon." "That's really nice of her," said Rosa, trying the fudge, which was very tasty. Her next present also contained candy - a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione. This only left one parcel that she carried. Rosa picked it up and felt it. It was very light. She unwrapped it. Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped. "I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten from Hermione. "If that's what I think it is - they're really rare, and really valuable." "What is it?" Rosa picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

"It's an invisibility cloak," said Ron, a look of awe on his face. "I'm sure it is - try it on." Rosa threw the cloak around his shoulders and Ron gave a yell. "It is! Look down!" Rosa looked down at her feet, but they were gone. She dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, her reflection looked back at her, just her head suspended in mid-air, her body completely invisible. She pulled the cloak over her head and her reflection vanished completely. "There's a note!" said Ron suddenly. "A note fell out of it!" Rosa pulled off the cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing she had never seen before were the following words: Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you. There was no signature.

Rosa stared at the note. Ron was admiring the cloak. "I'd give anything for one of these," he said. "Anything. What's the matter?" "Nothing," said Rosa. She felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to her father? Before she could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded down the steps. Rosa stuffed the cloak quickly out of sight. She didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else yet. "Merry Christmas!" "Hey, look - Rosa's got a Weasley sweater, too!" Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G. "Rosa's is better than ours, though," said Fred, holding up Rosa's sweater. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm." "I hate maroon," Ron moaned half-heartedly as he pulled it over his head. "You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid - we know we're called Gred and Forge." "What's all this noise." Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized. "P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Rosa got one."

"I - don't - want said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew. "And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," said George. "Christmas is a time for family." They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater. Rosa had never in all her life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce - and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favours were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the camp usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside, Hmm maybe Rosa should ask them to change them. Rosa pulled a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice.

Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him. Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. Rosa watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Rosa's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided. When Rosa finally left the table, she was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of non explodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and her own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Rosa had a feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norris's Christmas dinner.

Rosa and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Rosa broke in her new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron. She suspected she wouldn't have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help her so much. After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge. It had been Rosa's best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of her mind all day. Not until she climbed into bed was she free to think about it: the invisibility cloak and whoever had sent it. Rosa had made a list of Christmas Presents which was

Rosa's Christmas Presents List:

Her Necklace from Luke

A Fully Stocked Make-Up Kit from Lavender and Parvati

A emerald green sweater and a large box of homemade fudge from Mrs. Weasley

A large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione

A wooden flute from Hagrid

An Invisibility Cloak from someone who knew her farther

A Never wilting Gladiolus from Neville

A matching bracelet from Cassie (It Matched her Necklace from Luke)

Lots of Books on magic from her demigod friends

Rosa leaned over the side of her own bed and pulled the cloak out from under it. Her father's... this had been her father's. She let the material flow over her hands, smoother than silk, light as air. Use it well, the note had said.

She had to try it, now. She slipped out of bed and wrapped the cloak around herself. Looking down at her legs, she saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling. Use it well. Suddenly, Rosa felt wide-awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to her in this cloak. Excitement flooded through her as she stood there in the dark and silence. She could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know. Rosa thought of Ron. Should Rosa wake him? Something held her back - her father's cloak - she felt that this time - the first time – she wanted to use it alone. She crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbed through the portrait hole. "Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady. Rosa said nothing. She walked quickly down the corridor. Where should she go? She stopped, her heart racing, and thought. And then it came to her. The Restricted Section in the library. She'd be able to read as long as she liked. She set off, drawing the invisibility cloak tight around her as she walked.

The library was pitch-black and very eerie. Rosa lit her wand to see her way along the rows of books. The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library, she held up her wand to read the titles. They didn't tell her much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Rosa couldn't understand but she saw some books in Ancient Greek and some in Latin which she knew because Kaia wanted all the demigods at Hogwarts to know both. Some had no title at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked like blood. The hairs on the back of Rosa's neck prickled. Maybe she was imagining it, maybe not, but she thought a faint whispering was coming from the books.

She had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, she looked along the bottom shelf for an interesting looking book. A large black and silver volume caught her eye. She pulled it out with little difficulty, because it would be very heavy for a mortal wizard/witch but for her a demigod witch it wasn't, and, balancing it on her knee, let it fall open. A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence - the book was screaming! Rosa snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on, one high, unbroken, ear splitting note. She stumbled backward into a table and knocked over a book on it, which fell to the ground with a flop. Panicking, she heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside - stuffing the shrieking book back on the shelf, she ran for it. She passed Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through her, and Rosa slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in her ears.

She came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armour. She had been so busy getting away from the library, she hadn't paid attention to where she was going. Because it was dark, she didn't recognize where she was at all. There was a suit of armour near the kitchens, she knew, but she must be five floors above there. "You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library Restricted Section." Rosa felt the blood drain out of her face. Wherever she was, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to her slight horror, it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them." Rosa stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see her, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into her - the cloak didn't stop her from being solid.

She backed away as quietly as she could. A door stood ajar to her left. It was her only hope. She squeezed through it, holding her breath, trying not to move it, and to her relief she managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything. They walked straight past, and Rosa leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. It was a few seconds before she noticed anything about the room she had hidden in. It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket - but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.

It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Her panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Rosa moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at herself but see no reflection again. She stepped in front of it. She had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. She whirled around. Her heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed - for she had seen not only herself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind her. But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, she turned slowly back to the mirror. There she was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind her, were at least ten others. Rosa looked over her shoulder - but still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was she in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not?

She looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind her reflection was smiling at her and waving. She reached out a hand and felt the air behind her. If she was really there, she'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but she felt only air - she and the others existed only in the mirror. She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes – her eyes are just like mine and according to mom Lily's, Rosa thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green - exactly the same shape, but then she noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Rosa's did. Rosa was so close to the mirror now that her nose was nearly touching that of her reflection. "Lily?" she whispered. "Dad?" They just looked at her, smiling. And slowly, Rosa looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like her, other noses like her, even a little old man who looked as though he had Rosa's knobbly knees - Rosa was looking at her family, for the first time in his life well the part of her family she didn't know about because she didn't see her mother or her half brothers and sisters.

The Potters smiled and waved at Rosa and she stared hungrily back at them, her hands pressed flat against the glass as though she was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. She had a powerful kind of ache inside her, half joy, half terrible sadness. How long she stood there, she didn't know. The reflections did not fade and she looked and looked until a distant noise brought her back to her senses. She couldn't stay here, she had to find her way back to bed. She tore her eyes away from her sister's face, whispered, "I'll come back," and hurried from the room. "You could have woken me up," said Ron, crossly. "You can come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror. "I'd like to see your mom and dad," Ron said eagerly. "And I want to see all your family, all the Weasleys, you'll be able to show me you're other brothers and everyone." "You can see them any old time," said Ron. "Just come round my house this summer. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people. Shame about not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren't you eating anything?" Rosa couldn't eat. She had seen her farther and sister and would be seeing them again tonight. She had almost forgotten about Flamel. It didn't seem very important anymore. Who cared what the three headed dog was guarding? What did it matter if Snape stole it, really? "Are you all right?" said Ron. "You look odd."

What Rosa feared thought that she might not be able to find the mirror room again. With Ron covered in the cloak, too, they had to walk much more slowly the next night. They tried retracing Rosa's route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour. "I'm freezing," said Ron. "Let's forget it and go back." "No!" Rosa hissed. I know it's here somewhere." They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Rosa spotted the suit of armour. "It's here - just here - yes!" They pushed the door open. Rosa dropped the cloak from around her shoulders and ran to the mirror. There they were. Her sister and father beamed at the sight of her. "See?" Rosa whispered. "I can't see anything." "Look! Look at them all... there are loads of them..." "I can only see you." "Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am." Rosa stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, she couldn't see her family anymore, just Ron in his paisley pajamas. Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image. "Look at me!" he said. "Can you see all your family standing around you?" "No - I'm alone - but I'm different - I look older - and I'm head boy!" "What?" "I am - I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to - and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup - I'm Quidditch captain, too. Ron tore his eyes away from this splendid sight to look excitedly at Rosa.

"Do you think this mirror shows the future?" "How can it? All my family are dead - let me have another look -" "You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time." "You're only holding the Quidditch cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents." "Don't push me -" A sudden noise outside in the corridor put an end to their discussion. They hadn't realized how loudly they had been talking. "Quick!" Ron threw the cloak back over them as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris came round the door. Ron and Rosa stood quite still, both thinking the same thing - did the cloak work on cats which cause Rosa to give herself a mental slap it may hide them from sight but not smell. After what seemed an age, she turned and left. "This isn't safe - she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on." And Ron pulled Rosa out of the room. The snow still hadn't melted the next morning. "Want to play chess, Rosa?" said Ron. "No." "Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?" "No... you go..." "I know what you're thinking about, Rosa, that mirror. Don't go back tonight." "Why not?" "I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it - and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?" "You sound like Hermione." "I'm serious, Rosa, don't go." But Rosa only had one thought in her head, which was to get back in front of the mirror, and Ron wasn't going to stop her.

That third night she found her way more quickly than before. She was walking so fast she knew she was making more noise than was wise, but she didn't meet anyone. And there were her sister and father smiling at her again, and one of her grandfather's nodding happily. Rosa sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop her from staying here all night with her family. Nothing at all. Except - "So - back again, Rosa?" Rosa felt as though her insides had turned to ice. She looked behind her. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than her brother Albus Dumbledore. Rosa must have walked straight past her, so desperate to get to the mirror she hadn't noticed him which earned another mental slap. "- I didn't see you, brother." "Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore, and Rosa was relieved to see that he was smiling. "So," said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Rosa, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised." "I didn't know it was called that, brother." "But I expect you've realized by now what it does?" "It - well - it shows me my family -" "And it showed your friend Ron himself as head boy." "How did you know -?" "I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently.

"Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?" Rosa shook her head. "Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?" Rosa thought for a moment and hold on, Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi its mirror language for, I show not your face but your heart's desire. Then she said slowly, "It shows us our heart's desire" "Yes" said Dumbledore quietly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family minus our mother and our half siblings, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. "The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Rosa, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"

Rosa stood up. "Al? Can I ask you something?" "Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing, however." "What do you see when you look in the mirror?" "I? I see myself with my family just like you and holding a pair of thick, woolen socks." Rosa stared. "One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books." It was only when she was back in bed that it struck Rosa that she had a clue who sent her the clock so.

Rosa's Christmas Presents List:

Her Necklace from Luke.

A Fully Stocked Make-Up Kit from Lavender and Parvati.

An emerald green sweater and a large box of homemade fudge from Mrs. Weasley.

A large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.

A wooden flute from Hagrid.

An Invisibility Cloak from someone who knew her farther but she had a clue.

A Never wilting Gladiolus from Neville.

A matching bracelet from Cassie (It Matched her Necklace from Luke).

Lots of Books on magic from her demigod friend's.


	10. Nicolas Flamel

**I do not own Harry Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Ten – Nicolas Flamel**

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Her brother had convinced Rosa not to go looking for the Mirror of Erised again, and for the rest of the Christmas holidays the invisibility cloak stayed folded at the bottom of her trunk while she read the books called The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel, she check out before holidays. Rosa wished she could forget what she'd seen in the mirror as easily, but she couldn't. She started having nightmares which she was used to but I mean come on she is a demigod which means nightmares like every night. Over and over again she dreamed about her father disappearing in a flash of green light, while a high voice cackled with laughter. "You see, Dumbledore was right, that mirror could drive you mad," said Ron, when Rosa told him about these dreams. Hermione, who came back the day before term started, took a different view of things. She was torn between horror at the idea of Rosa being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row ("If Filch had caught you!"), and disappointment that she hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was. They had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even though Rosa knew she couldn't tell. Once term had started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. Rosa had even less time than the other two, because Quidditch practice had started again. Wood was working the team harder than ever. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys complained that Wood was becoming a fanatic, but Rosa was on Wood's side. If they won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years. Quite apart from wanting to win, Rosa found that she had fewer nightmares when she was tired out after training well at lease mortal nightmares not demigod nightmares.

Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Wood gave the team a bit of bad news. He'd just gotten very angry with the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms. "Will you stop messing around!" he yelled. "That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!" George Weasley really did fall off his broom at these words. "Snape's refereeing?" he spluttered through a mouthful of mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin." The rest of the team landed next to George to complain, too. "It's not my fault," said Wood. "We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us." Which was all very well, thought Rosa, but she had another reason for not wanting Snape near her while she was playing Quidditch... The rest of the team hung back to talk to one another as usual at the end of practice, but Rosa headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where she found Ron and Hermione playing chess. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Rosa and Ron thought was very good for her.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron when Rosa sat down next to him, "I need to concen -" He caught sight of Rosa's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible." Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Rosa told the other two about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee. "Don't play," said Hermione at once. "Say you're ill," said Ron. "Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested. "Really break your leg," said Ron. "I can't," said Rosa. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all." At that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower. Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione and the demigods in the room, who leapt up and performed the countercurse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling. "What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with Rosa and Ron. "Malfoy," said Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on." "Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!" Neville shook his head. "I don't want more trouble," he mumbled. "You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier." "There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out. Rosa felt in the pocket of her robes and pulled out a Chocolate Frog, the very last one from the box Hermione had given him for Christmas. She gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry. "You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Rosa said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin." Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog. "Thanks, Rosa... I think I'll go to bed... D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?" As Neville walked away, Rosa looked at the Famous Wizard card. "Dumbledore again," she said, "He was the first one I ever-" She gasped. She stared at the back of the card. Then she looked up at Ron and Hermione.

"I've found him!" she whispered. "I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here – listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'!" Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn't looked so excited since they'd gotten back the marks for their very first piece of homework. "Stay there!" she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Rosa and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an Athena sized old book in her arms. "I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading." "Light?" said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. At last she found what she was looking for. "I knew it! I knew it!" "Are we allowed to speak yet?" said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him. "Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone!" This didn't have quite the effect she'd expected. "The what?" said Rosa and Ron. "Oh, honestly, don't you two read? Look - read that, there." She pushed the book toward them, and Rosa and Ron read:

The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. There have been many reports of the Sorcerer's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).

"See?" said Hermione, when Rosa and Ron had finished. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!" "A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" said Rosa. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it." "And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," said Ron. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?" The next morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Rosa and Ron were still discussing what they'd do with a Sorcerer's Stone if they had one. It wasn't until Ron said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that Rosa remembered about Snape and the coming match. "I'm going to play," he told Ron and Hermione. "If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them... it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win." "Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," said Hermione. As the match drew nearer, however, Rosa became more and more nervous, whatever he told Ron and Hermione. The rest of the team wasn't too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the house championship was wonderful, no one had done it for seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee?

Rosa didn't know whether she was imagining it or not, but she seemed to keep running into Snape wherever she went. At times, she even wondered whether Snape was following her, trying to catch her on her own. Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Rosa. Could Snape possibly know they'd found out about the Sorcerer's Stone? Rosa didn't see how she could - yet she sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds. Rosa knew, when they wished her good luck outside the locker rooms the next afternoon, that Ron and Hermione were wondering whether they'd ever see her alive again. This wasn't what you'd call comforting. Rosa hardly heard a word of Wood's pep talk as she pulled on her Quidditch robes and picked up her Nimbus Two Thousand. Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brought their wands to the match. Little did Rosa know that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. They'd gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Rosa.

"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis," Hermione muttered as Ron slipped his wand up his sleeve. "I know," Ron snapped. "Don't nag." Back in the locker room, Wood had taken Rosa aside. "Don't want to pressure you, Rosa, but if we ever need an early capture of the Snitch it's now. Finish the game before Snape can favour Hufflepuff too much." "The whole school's out there!" said Fred, peering out of the door. "Even - blimey - Dumbledore's come to watch!" Rosa's heart did a somersault. "Dumbledore?" she said, dashing to the door to make sure. Fred was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard. Rosa could have laughed out loud with relief she was safe. There was simply no way that Snape would dare to try to hurt her if Dumbledore was watching. Perhaps that was why Snape was looking so angry as the teams marched onto the field, something that Ron noticed, too. "I've never seen Snape look so mean," he told Hermione. "Look -they're off Ouch!" Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy. "Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there." Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle. "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?" Ron didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Rosa, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money - you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains." Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy. "I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, "You tell him, Neville." "Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something." Ron's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Rosa. "I'm warning you, Malfoy - one more word "Ron!" said Hermione suddenly, "Rosa -" "What? Where?" Rosa had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Rosa streaked toward the ground like a bullet. "You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.

Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help. "Come on, Rosa!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Rosa sped straight at Snape - she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle. Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches - the next second, Rosa had pulled out of the dive, her arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in her hand. The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly. "Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! Rosa's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front.

Rosa jumped off her broom, a foot from the ground. She couldn't believe it. She'd done it - the game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes. As Gryffindors came spilling onto the field, she saw Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped - then Rosa felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up into Dumbledore's smiling face. "Well done," said Dumbledore quietly, so that only Rosa could hear. "Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror... been keeping busy... excellent..." Snape spat bitterly on the ground. Rosa left the locker room alone some time later, to take her Nimbus Two Thousand back to the broom shed. She couldn't ever remember feeling happier. She'd really done something to be proud of now - no one could say she was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. She walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in her head, which was a happy blur: Gryffindors running to lift her onto their shoulders; Ron and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed. Rosa had reached the shed. She leaned against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun.

Gryffindor in the lead. She'd done it, she'd shown Snape... And speaking of Snape... A hooded figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible toward the forbidden forest. Rosa's victory faded from her mind as she watched. She recognized the figure's prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the forest while everyone else was at dinner - what was going on? Rosa jumped back on her Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding silently over the castle she saw Snape enter the forest at a run. She followed. The trees were so thick she couldn't see where Snape had gone. She flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until she heard voices. She glided toward them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree. She climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to her broomstick, trying to see through the leaves. Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn't alone. Quirrell was there, too.

Rosa couldn't make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Rosa strained to catch what they were saying. "... d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus..." "Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," said Snape, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, after all." Rosa leaned forward. Quirrell was mumbling something. Snape interrupted him. "Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?" "B-b-but Severus, I -" "You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," said Snape, taking a step toward him. "I-I don't know what you "You know perfectly well what I mean." An owl hooted loudly, and Rosa nearly fell out of the tree. She steadied herself in time to hear Snape say, "- your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting." "B-but I d-d-don't -" "Very well," Snape cut in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie." He threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing. It was almost dark now, but Rosa could see Quirrell, standing quite still as though he was petrified.

"Rosa, where have you been?" Hermione squeaked. "We won! You won! We won!" shouted Ron, thumping Rosa on the back. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomftey says he'll be all right - talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens." "Never mind that now," said Rosa breathlessly. "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this..." She made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, then she told them what she'd seen and heard. "So we were right, it is the Sorcerer's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy - and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus pocuss- I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through -" "So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" said Hermione in alarm. "It'll be gone by next Tuesday," said Ron.


	11. Norbert The Norwegian Ridgeback

**I do not own Rosa Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Elven – Norbert The Norwegian Ridgeback**

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Quirrell, however, must have been braver than they'd thought. In the weeks that followed he did seem to be getting paler and thinner, but it didn't look as though he'd cracked yet. Every time they passed the third-floor corridor, Rosa, Ron, and Hermione would press their ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside. Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was still safe. Whenever Rosa passed Quirrell these days she gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron had started telling people off for laughing at Quirrell's stutter. Hermione, however, had more on her mind than the Sorcerer's Stone. She had started drawing up study schedules and color-coding all her notes. Rosa and Ron wouldn't have minded, but she kept nagging them to do the same which really helped with her Dyslexia. "Hermione, the exams are ages away." "Ten weeks," Hermione snapped. "That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel." "But we're not six hundred years old," Ron reminded her.

"Anyway, what are you studying for, you already know it A." "What am I studying for? Are you crazy? You realize we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me..." Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Rosa and Ron spent most of their free time in the library with her, trying to get through all their extra work. "I'll never remember this," Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they'd had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming.

Rosa, who was looking up "Dittany" in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, didn't look up until she heard Ron say, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?" Hagrid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat. "Jus' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice that got their interest at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He looked suddenly suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?" "Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," said Ron impressively. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Sorcerer's St -" "Shhhh!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?" "There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," said Rosa, "about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy -" "SHHHH!" said Hagrid again. "Listen - come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh -" "See you later, then," said Rosa. Hagrid shuffled off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" said Hermione thoughtfully. "Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?" "I'm going to see what section he was in," said Ron, who'd had enough of working. He came back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table. "Dragons!" he whispered. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide." "Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the second time I went to visit him," said Rosa thinking about the second time she when to his house. "But it's against our laws," said Ron. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden - anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania." "But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" said Rosa. "Of course there are," said Ron. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind has to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget." "So what on earths Hagrid up to?" said Hermione.

When they knocked on the door of the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. Hagrid called "Who is it?" before he let them in, and then shut the door quickly behind them. It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid made them tea and offered them stoat sandwiches, which they refused. "So - yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?" "Yes," said Rosa. There was no point beating around the bush. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Sorcerer's Stone apart from Fluffy." Hagrid frowned at him. "0' course I can't, he said. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts – I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy." "Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here," said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid's beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling. "We only wondered who had done the guarding, really." Hermione went on. "We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you." Hagrid's chest swelled at these last words. Rosa and Ron beamed at Hermione.

"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that... let's see... he borrowed Fluffy from me... then some o' the teachers did enchantments... Professor Sprout - Professor Flitwick - Professor McGonagall -" he ticked them off on his fingers, "Professor Quirrell - an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape." "Snape?" "Yeah - yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it." Rosa knew Ron and Hermione were thinking the same as she was. If Snape had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. He probably knew everything - except, it seemed, Quirrell's spell and how to get past Fluffy. "You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy. aren't you, Hagrid?" said Rosa anxiously. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?" "Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly. "Well, that's something," Rosa muttered to the others.

"Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling." "Can't, Rosa, sorry," said Hagrid. Rosa noticed him glance at the fire. Rosa looked at it, too. "Hagrid - what's that?" But she already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg. "Ah," said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard, "That's er..." "Where did you get it, Hagrid?" said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. "It must've cost you a fortune." "Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest." "But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" said Hermione. "Well, I've bin doin' some readin' , said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library - Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit - it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on I em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here - how ter recognize diff'rent eggs - what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them." He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn't. "Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," she said. But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire. So now they had something else to worry about: what might happen to Hagrid if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut. "Wonder what it's like to have a peaceful life," Ron sighed, as evening after evening they struggled through all the extra homework they were getting, I have no idea Ron how about when I find out I will tell you which with my luck would be never Rosa thought. Hermione had now started making study schedules for Rosa and Ron, too. It was driving them nuts.

Then, one breakfast time, Hedwig brought Rosa another note from Hagrid. He had written only two words: It's hatching. Ron wanted to skip Herbology and go straight down to the hut. Hermione wouldn't hear of it. "Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?" "We've got lessons, we'll get into trouble, and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing -" "Shut up!" Rosa whispered. Malfoy was only a few feet away and he had stopped dead to listen. How much had he heard? Rosa didn't like the look on Malfoy's face at all but Rosa saw shock on his face as well. Ron and Hermione argued all the way to Herbology and in the end, Hermione agreed to run down to Hagrid's with the other two during morning break. When the bell sounded from the castle at the end of their lesson, the three of them dropped their trowels at once and hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest. Hagrid greeted them, looking flushed and excited. "It's nearly out." He ushered them inside. The egg was lying on the table. There were deep cracks in it. Something was moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from it. They all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath.

All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table. It wasn't exactly pretty; Rosa thought it looked like a crumpled, black umbrella. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its skinny jet body, it had a long snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes. It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout. "Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs. "Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!" said Hagrid. "Hagrid," said Hermione, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?" Hagrid was about to answer when the colour suddenly drained from his face - he leapt to his feet and ran to the window. "What's the matter?" "Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains - it's a kid - he's runnin' back up ter the school." Rosa bolted to the door and looked out. Even at a distance there was no mistaking him.

Malfoy had seen the dragon. Something about the smile lurking on Malfoy's face during the next week made Ron and Hermione very nervous. They spent most of their free time in Hagrid's darkened hut, trying to reason with him. "Just let him go," Rosa urged. "Set him free." "I can't," said Hagrid. "He's too little. He'd die." They looked at the dragon. It had grown three times in length in just a week. Smoke kept furling out of its nostrils. Hagrid hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor. "I've decided to call him Norbert," said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mommy?" "He's lost his marbles," Ron muttered in Rosa's ear. "Hagrid," said Rosa loudly, "give it two weeks and Norbert's going to be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment." Hagrid bit his lip. "I - I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him, I can't." Rosa suddenly turned to Ron. Charlie, she said. "You're losing it, too," said Ron. "I'm Ron, remember?" "No - Charlie - your brother, Charlie. In Romania. Studying dragons. We could send Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then put him back in the wild!" "Brilliant!" said Ron. "How about it, Hagrid?" And in the end, Hagrid agreed that they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him. The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Hermione and Rosa sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open.

Ron appeared out of nowhere as he pulled off Rosa's invisibility cloak. He had been down at Hagrid's hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate. "It bit me!" he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby." There was a tap on the dark window. "It's Hedwig!" said Rosa, hurrying to let her in. "She'll have Charlie's answer!" The three of them put their heads together to read the note.

Dear Ron, How are you? Thanks for the letter - I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon. Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark.

Send me an answer as soon as possible. Love, Charlie

They looked at one another. "We've got the invisibility cloak," said Rosa. "It shouldn't be too difficult - I think the cloaks big enough to cover two of us and Norbert." It was a mark of how bad the last week had been that the other two agreed with him. Anything to get rid of Norbert - and Malfoy. There was a hitch. By the next morning, Ron's bitten hand had swollen to twice its usual size. He didn't know whether it was safe to go to Madam Pomfrey - would she recognize a dragon bite? By the afternoon, though, he had no choice. The cut had turned a nasty shade of green. It looked as if Norbert's fangs were poisonous. Rosa and Hermione rushed up to the hospital wing at the end of the day to find Ron in a terrible state in bed. "It's not just my hand," he whispered, "although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me - I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me -I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this." Rosa and Hermione tried to calm Ron down.

"It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," said Hermione, but this didn't soothe Ron at all. On the contrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat. "Midnight on Saturday!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Oh no oh no - I've just remembered - Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert." Rosa and Hermione didn't get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep. "It's too late to change the plan now," Rosa told Hermione. "We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We'll have to risk it. And we have got the invisibility cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that." They found Fang, the boarhound, sitting outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them. "I won't let you in," he puffed. "Norbert's at a tricky stage - nothin' I can't handle." When they told him about Charlie's letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg. "Aargh! It's all right, he only got my boot - jus' playin' - he's only a baby, after all." The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Rosa and Hermione walked back to the castle feeling Saturday couldn't come quickly enough. They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say good-bye to Norbert if they hadn't been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night, and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid's hut because they'd had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the entrance hall, where he'd been playing tennis against the wall.

Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate. "He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," said Hagrid in a muffled voice. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely." From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to Rosa as though the teddy was having his head torn off. "Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed, as Rosa and Hermione covered the crate with the invisibility cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. "Mommy will never forget you!" How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and along the dark corridors. UP another staircase, then another - even one of Rosa's shortcuts didn't make the work much easier. "Nearly there!" Rosa panted as they reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower. Then a sudden movement ahead of them made them almost drop the crate. Forgetting that they were already invisible, they shrank into the shadows, staring at the dark outlines of two people grappling with each other ten feet away. A lamp flared. Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net, had Malfoy by the ear.

"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you -" "You don't understand, Professor. Rosa Potter's coming - he's got a dragon!" "What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on - I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!" The steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower seemed the easiest thing in the world after that. Not until they'd stepped out into the cold night air did they throw off the cloak, glad to be able to breathe properly again. Hermione did a sort of jig. "Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!" "Don't," Rosa advised her. Chuckling about Malfoy, they waited, Norbert thrashing about in his crate. About ten minutes later, four broomsticks came swooping down out of the darkness. Charlie's friends were a cheery lot. They showed Rosa and Hermione the harness they'd rigged up, so they could suspend Norbert between them. They all helped buckle Norbert safely into it and then Rosa and Hermione shook hands with the others and thanked them very much. At last, Norbert was going... going... gone. They slipped back down the spiral staircase, their hearts as light as their hands, now that Norbert was off them. No more dragon - Malfoy in detention - what could spoil their happiness? The answer to that was waiting at the foot of the stairs. As they stepped into the corridor, Filch's face loomed suddenly out of the darkness. "Well, well, well," he whispered, "we are in trouble." They'd left the invisibility cloak on top of the tower.


	12. The Forbidden Forest

**I do not own Rosa Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Twelve – The Forbidden Forest**

* * *

Things couldn't have been worse. Filch took them down to Professor McGonagall's study on the first floor, where they sat and waited without saying a word to each other. Hermione was trembling. Excuses, alibis, and wild cover- up stories chased each other around Rosa's brain, each more feeble than the last. She couldn't see how they were going to get out of trouble this time. They were cornered. How could they have been so stupid as to forget the cloak? There was no reason on earth that Professor McGonagall would accept for their being out of bed and creeping around the school in the dead of night, let alone being up the tallest astronomy tower, which was out-of-bounds except for classes. Add Norbert and the invisibility cloak, and they might as well be packing their bags already. Had Rosa thought that things couldn't have been worse? She was wrong. When Professor McGonagall appeared, she was leading Neville. "Rosa!" Neville burst out, the moment he saw the other two. "I was trying to find you to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you, he said you had a drag -" Rosa shook her head violently to shut Neville up, but Professor McGonagall had seen. She looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert as she towered over the three of them. "I would never have believed it of any of you. Mr. Filch says you were up in the astronomy tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. Explain yourselves."

It was the first time Hermione had ever failed to answer a teacher's question. She was staring at her slippers, as still as a statue. "I think I've got a good idea of what's been going on," said Professor McGonagall. "It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. I've already caught him. I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?" Rosa caught Neville's eye and tried to tell him without words that this wasn't true, because Neville was looking stunned and hurt. Poor, Neville - Rosa knew what it must have cost him to try and find them in the dark, to warn them. "I'm disgusted," said Professor McGonagall. "Four students out of bed in one night! I've never heard of such a thing before! You, Miss Granger, I thought you had more sense. As for you, Miss Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this. All three of you will receive detentions - yes, you too, Mr. Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around school at night, especially these days, it's very dangerous - and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor."  
"Fifty?" Rosa gasped - they would lose the lead, the lead she'd won in the last Quidditch match.  
"Fifty points each," said Professor McGonagall, breathing heavily through her long, pointed nose.  
"Professor – please "You can't -" "Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Potter. Now get back to bed, all of you. I've never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students."

A hundred and fifty points lost. That put Gryffindor in last place. In one night, they'd ruined any chance Gryffindor had had for the house cup. Rosa felt as though the bottom had dropped out of her stomach. How could they ever make up for this? Rosa didn't sleep all night. She could hear Hermione sobbing into her pillow for what seemed like hours. Rosa couldn't think of anything to say to comfort her. She knew Neville and Hermione, like herself, was dreading the dawn. What would happen when the rest of Gryffindor found out what they'd done? At first, Gryffindors passing the giant hourglasses that recorded the house points the next day thought there'd been a mistake. How could they suddenly have a hundred and fifty points fewer than yesterday? And then the story started to spread: Rosa Potter, the famous Rosa Potter, their hero of two Quidditch matches, had lost them all those points, her and a couple of other stupid first years. From being one of the most popular and admired people at the school, Rosa was suddenly the most hated. Even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs minus her demigod friends had turned on her, because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the house cup. Everywhere Rosa went, people pointed and didn't trouble to lower their voices as they insulted her which caused her to want to go home if I wasn't for her friends. Slytherins, on the other hand, clapped as he walked past them, whistling and cheering, "Thanks Potter, we owe you one!" Only Ron and her demigod friends stood by her.

"They'll all forget this in a few weeks. Fred and George have lost loads of points in all the time they've been here, and people still like them." "They've never lost a hundred and fifty points in one go, though, have they?" said Rosa miserably. "Well - no," Ron admitted. It was a bit late to repair the damage, but Rosa swore to herself not to meddle in things that weren't her business from now on. She'd had it with sneaking around and spying. She felt so ashamed of herself that she went to Wood and offered to resign from the Quidditch team. "Resign?" Wood thundered. "What good will that do? How are we going to get any points back if we can't win at Quidditch?" But even Quidditch had lost its fun. The rest of the team wouldn't speak to Rosa during practice, and if they had to speak about her, they called her "the Seeker." Hermione and Neville were suffering, too. They didn't have as bad a time as Rosa, because they weren't as well-known, but nobody would speak to them, either. Hermione had stopped drawing attention to herself in class, keeping her head down and working in silence.

Rosa was almost glad that the exams weren't far away. All the studying she had to do kept her mind off her misery. She, Ron, and Hermione kept to themselves, working late into the night, trying to remember the ingredients in complicated potions, learn charms and spells by heart, memorize the dates of magical discoveries and goblin rebellions... Then, about a week before the exams were due to start, Rosa's new resolution not to interfere in anything that didn't concern her was put to an unexpected test. Walking back from the library on her own one afternoon, she heard somebody whimpering from a classroom up ahead. As she drew closer, she heard Quirrell's voice. "No - no - not again, please -" It sounded as though someone was threatening him. Rosa moved closer. "All right - all right -" she heard Quirrell sob. Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom straightening his turban. He was pale and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of sight; Rosa didn't think Quirrell had even noticed her. She waited until Quirrell's footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It was empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Rosa was halfway toward it before she remembered what she'd promised herself about not meddling.

All the same, she'd have gambled twelve Sorcerer's Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Rosa had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step - Quirrell seemed to have given in at last. Rosa went back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on  
Astronomy. Rosa told them what she'd heard. "Snape's done it, then!" said Ron. "If Quirrell's told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell -" "There's still Fluffy, though," said Hermione. "Maybe Snape's found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid," said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. "I bet there's a book somewhere in here telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So what do we do, Rosa?" The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron's eyes, but Hermione answered before Rosa could. "Go to Dumbledore. That's what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we'll be thrown out for sure." "But we've got no proof!" said Rosa. "Quirrell's too scared to back us up. Snape's only got to say he doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the third floor - who do you think they'll believe, him or us? It's not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore will think we made it up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn't help us if his life depended on it, he's too friendly with Snape, and the  
more students get thrown out, the better, he'll think. And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the Stone or Fluffy. That'll take a lot of explaining." Hermione looked convinced, but Ron didn't. "If we just do a bit of poking around -" "No," said Rosa flatly, "we've done enough poking around." She pulled a map of Jupiter toward him and started to learn the names of its moons. The following morning, notes were delivered to Rosa, Hermione, and Neville at the breakfast table. They were all the same: Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight. Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall.

Professor McGonagall Rosa had forgotten they still had detentions to do in the furor over the points they'd lost. She half expected Hermione to complain that this was a whole night of studying lost, but she didn't say a word. Like Rosa, she felt they deserved what they'd got. At eleven o'clock that night, they said good-bye to Ron in the common room and went down to the entrance hall with Neville. Filch was already there - and so was Malfoy. Rosa had also forgotten that Malfoy had gotten a detention, too. "Follow me," said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside. I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he said, leering at them. "Oh yes... hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me... It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out... hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well-oiled in case there ever needed... Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing. Rosa wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn't be sounding so delighted. The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Rosa could see the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut. Then they heard a distant shout. "Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started." Rosa's heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn't be so bad. Her relief must have showed in her -face, because Filch said, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy - it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece." At this, Neville let out a little moan, and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks with what Rosa could see in the moonlight a glint of happiness which she knew was also in her eye after all they both enjoyed a good fight. "The forest?" he repeated, and he trying to act scared but Rosa could hear the happiness he tried to not know. "We can't go in there at night - there's all sorts of things in there - werewolves, I heard." Neville clutched the sleeve of Rosa's robe and made a choking noise 'Ok Nev, Draco I know how much we enjoy a fight' she sent to them both telepathy.

"That's your problem, isn't it?" said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. "Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?" Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder. "Abou' time," he said. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Rosa, Hermione?" "I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," said Filch coldly, they're here to be punished, after all." "That's why yer late, is it?" said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh?' Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here." "I'll be back at dawn," said Filch, "for what's left of them," he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp  
bobbing away in the darkness. Malfoy now turned to Hagrid. "I'm not going in that forest, he said, and with a note of panic in his voice. "Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yehve got ter pay fer it." "But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled. "Copyin' lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or Yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off  
ter the castle an' pack. Go on"' Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously, but then dropped his gaze.

"Right then," said Hagrid, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment." He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest. "Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery." "And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice witch Rosa was shocked to hear was real but she knew why after all Unicorns were the purest of magical creatures and shavings from their horns form a strong medicine and the horn and tail hair in particular can be used in potions while Unicorn hair can also be used for the cores of wands. And the the tail hair can also be used as binding in bandages due to its incredible strength and she didn't want to meet anything that could catch a unicorn because a unicorn was even faster than a werewolf.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least." "I want Fang," said Malfoy acting quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth. "All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid. "So me, Rosa, an' Hermione'll go one way an' Draco, Neville, an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now - that's it - an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh - so, be careful - let's go." The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a  
fork in the earth path, and Rosa, Hermione, and Hagrid took the left path while Malfoy, Neville, and Fang took the right. They walked in silence, their eyes on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves. Rosa saw that Hagrid looked very worried. "Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns?" Rosa asked acting dumb because most of what she knew about unicorns she learned at camp.

"Not fast enough," said Hagrid. "It's not easy ter catch a unicorn, they're powerful magic creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before." They walked past a mossy tree stump. Rosa could hear running water; there must be a stream somewhere close by. There were still spots of unicorn blood here and there along the winding path. "You all right, Hermione?" Hagrid whispered. "Don' worry, it can't've  
gone far if it's this badly hurt, an' then we'll be able ter – GET BEHIND THAT TREE!" Hagrid seized Rosa and Hermione and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was  
slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away. "I knew it," he murmured. "There's summat in here that shouldn' be." "A werewolf?" Rosa suggested. "That wasn' no werewolf an' it wasn' no unicorn, neither," said Hagrid grimly. "Right, follow me, but careful, now." They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved. "Who's there?" Hagrid called. "Show yerself - I'm armed!" And into the clearing came a centaur which caused her to smile remembering Chiron To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse's gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Rosa saw Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Oh, it's you, Ronan," said Hagrid in relief. "How are yeh?" He walked forward and shook the centaur's hand. "Good evening to you, Hagrid," said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. "Were you going to shoot me?" "Can't be too careful, Ronan," said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. "There's summat bad loose in this forest. This is Rosa Potter an' Hermione Granger, by the way. Students up at the school. An' this is Ronan, you two. He's a centaur. "We'd noticed," said Hermione faintly. "Good evening," said Ronan. "Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?"  
"Er -" "A bit," said Hermione timidly. "A bit. Well, that's something." Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky. "Mars is bright tonight." Wait what Mars is roman Ares so that means a war is coming thought Rosa "Yeah," said Hagrid, glancing up, too. "Listen, I'm glad we've run inter  
yeh, Ronan, 'cause there's a unicorn bin hurt - you seen anythin'?" Ronan didn't answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upward, then sighed again. "Always the innocent are the first victims," he said. "So it has been for ages past, so it is now." An't that turn Ronan Rosa thought "Yeah," said Hagrid, "but have yeh seen anythin', Ronan? Anythin' unusual?" "Mars is bright tonight," Ronan repeated, while Hagrid watched him impatiently. "Unusually bright." Rosa saw Ronan's eye flicker to her for a second "Yeah, but I was meanin' anythin' unusual a bit nearer home, said Hagrid.

"So yeh haven't noticed anythin' strange?" Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said, "The forest hides many secrets." A movement in the trees behind Ronan made Hagrid raise his bow again, but it was only a second centaur, black-haired and -bodied and wilder-looking than Ronan. "Hullo, Bane," said Hagrid. "All right?" "Good evening, Hagrid, I hope you are well?" "Well enough. Look, I've jus' bin askin' Ronan, you seen anythin' odd in here lately? There's a unicorn bin injured - would yeh know anythin' about it?" Bane walked over to stand next to Ronan. He looked skyward. "Mars is bright tonight," he said simply they want us to take a hint Rosa thought I'll tell Kaia later. "We've heard," said Hagrid grumpily. "Well, if either of you do see anythin', let me know, won't yeh? We'll be off, then." Rosa and Hermione followed him out of the clearing, staring over their shoulders at Ronan and Bane until the trees blocked their view. "Never," said Hagrid irritably, "try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anythin' closer'n the  
moon." Well that's not true ask Chiron thought Rosa a tiny bit mad cause Chiron raised her till she moved into her cabin when she was 5.

"Are there many of them in here?" asked Hermione. "Oh, a fair few... Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they're good enough about turnin' up if ever I want a word. They're deep, mind, centaurs... they know things... jus' don' let on much." "D'you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?" said Hermione. "Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what's bin killin' the unicorns - never heard anythin' like it before." They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Rosa kept looking nervously over her shoulder. She had the nasty feeling they were being watched so she kept her hand on her necklace. She was very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them. They had just passed a bend in the path when Hermione grabbed Hagrid's  
arm. "Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!" "You two wait here!" Hagrid shouted. "Stay on the path, I'll come back for yeh!" They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn't hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them. "You don't think they've been hurt, do you?" whispered Hermione. "I don't care if Malfoy has, but if something's got Neville... it's our fault he's here in the first place."

The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Rosa picked up every sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others? At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid's return. Malfoy, Neville, and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him as a joke. Neville had  
panicked and sent up the sparks but Rosa knew better Draco wouldn't do that she knew something had scared them and used that as a cover story. "We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups - Neville, you stay with me an' Hermione, Rosa, you go with Fang an' this idiot. I'm sorry," Hagrid added in a whisper to Rosa, "but he'll have a harder time frightenin' you, an' we've gotta get this done." So Rosa set off into the heart of the forest with Malfoy and Fang. They walked for nearly half an hour hands always on their weapons which for Rosa were her necklace which turned into her staff or scythe and for Draco his coin that looked like a gallon and turned into a sword, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick.

Rosa saw the blood getting thicker so that meant they were close. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Rosa could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak. "Look -" she murmured, holding out her arm to stop Malfoy. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer. It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. Rosa had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves. Rosa had taken one step toward it when a slithering sound made her freeze where she stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered... Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Rosa, Malfoy, and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood. 'Draco, grab Fang and go find Hagrid and act scared' she said to him and she saw him nod slightly "AAAAAAAAAARGH!" Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted - so did Fang. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Rosa - unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly toward Rosa - she didn't move.

Then a pain like she'd never felt before pierced her head; it was as though her scar were on fire. Half blinded cause of the pain, she staggered backward. She heard hooves behind her, galloping, and something jumped clean over Rosa, charging at the figure. The pain in Rosa's head was so bad she fell to her knees. It took a minute or two to pass. When she looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over her, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blond hair and a palomino body. "Are you all right Daughter of Hecate?" said the centaur, pulling Rosa to her feet. "Yes - thank you - what was that?" The centaur didn't answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires.

He looked carefully at Rosa, his eyes lingering on the scar that stood out, livid, on Rosa's forehead. "You are the Potter girl," he said. "You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time - especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way. "My name is Firenze," he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Rosa could clamber onto his back. There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty. "Firenze!" Bane thundered. "What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?" "Do you realize who this is?" said Firenze. "This is the Potter girl and a daughter of Hecate. The  
quicker she leaves this forest, the better." "What have you been telling her?" growled Bane. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read  
what is to come in the movements of the planets?" Ronan pawed the ground nervously. "I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best," he said in his gloomy voice. Bane kicked his back legs in anger. "For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray demigods in our forest!"  
Firenze suddenly reared on to his hind legs in anger, so that Rosa had to grab his shoulders to stay on. "Do you not see that unicorn?" Firenze bellowed at Bane. "Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with demigods and humans alongside me if I must." And Firenze whisked around; with Rosa clutching on as best she could, they plunged off into the trees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them.

Rosa didn't have a clue what was going on. "Why's Bane so angry?" she asked. "What was that thing you saved me from, anyway?" Firenze slowed to a walk, warned Rosa to keep her head bowed in case of low-hanging branches, but did not answer Rosa's question. They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Rosa thought Firenze didn't want to talk to her anymore. They were passing through a particularly dense patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.

"Rosa Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used -for?" "No," said Rosa, startled by the odd question. "We've only used the horn and tail hair in Potions at Hogwarts and what I learned at camp Chiron didn't tell us about unicorn blood." "That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," said Firenze. "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenceless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips." Rosa stared at the back of Firenze's head, which was dappled silver in the moonlight. "But who'd be that desperate?" she wondered aloud. "If you're going to be cursed forever, deaths better, isn't it?" "It is," Firenze agreed, "unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else - something that will bring you back to full strength and power - something that will mean you can never die. Daughter of Hecate, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?" "The Sorcerer's Stone! Of course - the Elixir of Life! But I don't understand the Elixir is fake who -" "Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?" It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Rosa's heart. Over the rustling of the trees, she seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told her the second time she visited: "Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die." "Do you mean," Rosa croaked, "That was Vol-" "Rosa! Rosa, are you all right?" Hermione was running toward them down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind her.

I'm fine," said Rosa, hardly knowing what she was saying. "The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there." "This is where I leave you," Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to  
examine the unicorn. "You are safe now." Rosa slid off his back. "Good luck, Rosa Potter," said Firenze. "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times." He turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest, leaving Rosa shivering behind him. Ron had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for them to return. He shouted something about Quidditch fouls when Rosa roughly shook him awake. In a matter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Rosa began to tell him and Hermione what had happened in the forest.  
Rosa couldn't sit down. She paced up and down in front of the fire. She was still shaking. "Snape wants the stone for Voldemort... and Voldemort's waiting in the forest... and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich..." "Stop saying the name!" said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he  
thought Voldemort could hear them. Rosa wasn't listening.

"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so... Bane was furious... he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen... They must show that Voldemort's coming back... Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me... I suppose that's written in the stars as well." "Will you stop saying the name!" Ron hissed. "So all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone," Rosa went on feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off... Well, I suppose Bane will be happy." Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort. "Rosa, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic." The sky had turned light before they stopped talking. They went to bed exhausted, their throats sore. But the night's surprises weren't over. When Rosa pulled back her sheets, she found her invisibility cloak folded neatly underneath them. There was a note pinned to it: Just in case, My Little Moon.


	13. Through The Trapdoor

**I do not own Rosa Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Thirteen – Through The Trapdoor**

* * *

In years to come, Rosa would never quite remember how she had managed to get through her exams when she half expected Voldemort to come bursting through the door at any moment. Yet the days crept by, and there could be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door. It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an AntiCheating spell. They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap dance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox - points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion. Rosa did the best she could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in her forehead, which had been bothering her ever since her trip into the  
forest. Hermione thought Rosa had a bad case of exam nerves because Rosa couldn't sleep, but the truth was that Rosa kept being woken by her old mortal nightmare, except that it was now worse than ever because there was a hooded figure dripping blood in it.

Maybe it was because they hadn't seen what Rosa had seen in the forest, or because they didn't have scars burning on their foreheads, but Ron and Hermione didn't seem as worried about the Stone as Rosa. The idea of Voldemort certainly scared them, but he didn't keep visiting them in dreams, and they were so busy with their studying they didn't have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to. Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented selfstirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Rosa couldn't help cheering with the rest. "That was far easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione as they joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager." While Rosa's mind was on last nights demigod meeting were Rosa told everyone about Voldemort and what Ronan and Bane said about Mars, Hermione always liked to go through their exam papers afterward, but Ron said this made him feel ill, so they wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid while Kaia whatched happily, which was basking in the warm shallows.

"No more studying," Ron sighed happily, stretching out on the grass. "You could look more cheerful, Rosa, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet." Rosa was rubbing her forehead. "I wish I knew what this means!" she burst out angrily. "My scar keeps hurting - it's happened before, but never as often as this." "Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested. "I'm not ill," said Rosa. "I think it's a warning... it means danger's coming..." Ron couldn't get worked up, it was too hot.

"Rosa, relax, Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down." Rosa nodded, but she couldn't shake off a lurking feeling that there was something she'd forgotten to do, something important. When she tried to explain this, Hermione said, "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one." Rosa was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn't have anything to do with work, though. She watched an owl flutter toward the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent her letters other than Kaia. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy... never... but - Rosa suddenly jumped to her feet.

"Where're you going?" said Ron sleepily. "I've just thought of something," said Rosa. She had turned white. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now." "Why?" panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up.  
"Don't you think it's a bit odd," said Rosa, scrambling up the grassy slope, "that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think? Why didn't I see it before?" "What are you talking about?" said Ron, but Rosa, sprinting across the grounds toward the forest, didn't answer. Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl. "Hullo," he said, smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?" "Yes, please," said Ron, but Rosa cut him off.

"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?" "Dunno," said Hagrid casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off." He saw the three of them look stunned and raised his eyebrows. "It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head - that's the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up." Rosa sank down next to the bowl of peas. "What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?" "Mighta come up," said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember.

"Yeah... he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here... He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I took after... so I told him... an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon... an' then... I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks... Let's see... yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted... but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home... So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy..." "And did he - did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Rosa asked, trying to keep his voice calm. "Well - yeah - how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep -" Hagrid suddenly looked horrified. "I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey - where're yeh goin'?"

Rosa, Ron, and Hermione didn't speak to each other at all until they came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds. "We've got to go to Dumbledore," said Rosa. "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak - it must've been easy, once he'd got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office? "They looked around, as if hoping to see a sign pointing them in the right direction. They had never been told where Dumbledore lived, nor did they know anyone who had been sent to see him other than The Weasley twins and Kaia but there was no time to go ask them. "We'll just have to -" Rosa began, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall. "What are you three doing inside?" It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione, rather bravely, Rosa and Ron thought. "See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?" Rosa swallowed - now what? "It's sort of secret," she said, but she wished at once she hadn't, because Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared. "Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once." "He's gone?" said Rosa frantically. "Now?" "Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time - "But this is important." "Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter. "Look," said Rosa, throwing caution to the winds, "Professor - it's about the Sorcerer's tone -" Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn't that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she didn't pick them up.

"How do you know -?" she spluttered. "Professor, I think - I know - that Sn- that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore." She eyed her with a mixture of shock and suspicion. "Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she said finally. I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected." "But Professor -" "Potter, I know what I'm talking about," she said shortly. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine." But they didn't. "It's tonight," said Rosa, once she was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up." "But what can we -" Hermione gasped. Rosa and Ron wheeled round. Snape was standing there. "Good afternoon," he said smoothly. They stared at him. "You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he said, with an odd, twisted smile. "We were -" Rosa began, without any idea what she was going to say. "You want to be more careful," said Snape. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?" Rosa flushed. They turned to go outside, but Snape called them back. "Be warned, Potter - any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you." He strode off in the direction of the staffroom.

Out on the stone steps, Rosa turned to the others. "Right, here's what we've got to do," he whispered urgently. "One of us has got to keep an eye on Snape - wait outside the staff room and  
follow him if he leaves it. Hermione, you'd better do that." "Why me? "It's obvious," said Ron. "You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know." He put on a high voice, "'Oh Professor Flitwick,  
I'm so worried, I think I got question fourteen b wrong...'" "Oh, shut up," said Hermione, but she agreed to go and watch out for Snape. "And we'd better stay outside the third-floor corridor," Rosa told Ron. "Come on."  
But that part of the plan didn't work. No sooner had they reached the door separating Fluffy from the rest of the school than Professor McGonagall turned up again and this time, she lost her temper. "I suppose you think you're harder to get past than a pack of enchantments!" she stormed. "Enough of this nonsense! If I hear you've come anywhere near here again, I'll take another fifty points from Gryffindor! Yes, Weasley, from my own house!" Rosa and Ron went back to the common room, Rosa had just said, "At least Hermione's on Snape's tail," when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and Hermione came in. "I'm sorry, Rosa!" she wailed. "Snape came out and asked me what I was doing, so I said I was waiting for Flitwick, and Snape went to get him, and I've only just got away, I don't know where Snape went." "Well, that's it then, isn't it?" Rosa said.

The other two stared at her. She was pale and her eyes were glittering. "I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first." "You're mad!" said Ron. "You can't!" said Hermione. "After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!" "SO WHAT" Rosa shouted. "Don't you understand? If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn't matter anymore, can't you see? D'you think he'll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the house cup? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find me there, it's only dying a bit later than I would have, because I'm never going over to the Dark Side! I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you two say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?" She glared at them. "You're right Rosa," said Hermione in a small voice. "I'll use the invisibility cloak," said Rosa. "It's just lucky I got it back." "But will it cover all three of us?" said Ron. "All - all three of us?" "Oh, come off it, you don't think we'd let you go alone?" "Of course not," said Hermione briskly. "How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go and took through my books, there might be something useful..." "But if we get caught, you two will be expelled, too." "Not if I can help it," said Hermione grimly. "Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."

After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Rosa any more, after all. This was the first night she hadn't been upset  
by it. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the enchantments they were about to try to break. Rosa and Ron didn't talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they  
were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed. "Better get the cloak," Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Rosa ran upstairs to her dark dormitory. She changed her outfit, used the mist to hide her outfit and putted out the cloak and then she heard something "Where you going Rosa?" Rosa spun around to see Lavender and Parvati staring at her "I'm gonna protect the stone tonight and your not gonna stop me" said Rosa "Wouldn't dream of it Rosa, just please try and return to us alive" said Parvati "I'll Try Lavender and Parvati" said Rosa "See you hopefully later" said Lavender.

Rosa smiled at them then she ran back down to the common room. "We'd better put the cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us - if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own -" "What are you doing?" said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he'd been making another bid for freedom. "Nothing, Neville, nothing," said Rosa, hurriedly putting the cloak behind her back. Neville stared at Ron and Hermione's guilty faces. "You're going out again," he said. "No, no, no," said Hermione. "No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?" Rosa looked at the grandfather clock by the door. They couldn't afford to waste any more time, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep.

"You can't go out," said Neville, "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble." "You don't understand," said Rosa, "this is important." But Neville was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate. I won't let you do it," he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll - I'll fight you!" "Neville, "Ron exploded, "get away from that hole and don't be an idiot -" "Don't you call me an idiot!" said Neville. I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!" "Yes, but not to us," said Ron in exasperation. "Neville, you don't know what you're doing." He took a step forward and Neville dropped Trevor the toad, who leapt out of sight. "Go on then, try and hit me!" said Neville, raising his fists. "I'm ready!" Rosa turned to Hermione. "Do something," she said desperately. Hermione stepped forward. "Neville," she said, "I'm really, really sorry about this." She raised her wand. "Petrificus Totalus!" she cried, pointing it at Neville. Neville's arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as a board. Hermione ran to turn him over. Neville's jaws were jammed together so he couldn't speak. Only his eyes were moving, looking at them in horror. "What've you done to him?" Rosa whispered. "It's the full Body-Bind," said Hermione miserably. "Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry." "We had to, Neville, no time to explain," said Rosa. "You'll understand later, Neville," said Ron as they stepped over him and pulled on the invisibility cloak. But leaving Neville lying motionless on the floor didn't feel like a very good omen.

In their nervous state, every statue's shadow looked like Filch, every distant breath of wind sounded like Peeves swooping down on them. At the foot of the first set of stairs, they spotted Mrs. Norris skulking near the top. "Oh, let's kick her, just this once," Ron whispered in Rosa's ear, but Rosa shook her head. As they climbed carefully around her, Mrs. Norris turned her lamplike eyes on them, but didn't do anything. They didn't meet anyone else until they reached the staircase up to the third floor. Peeves was bobbing halfway up, loosening the carpet so that people would trip. "Who's there?" he said suddenly as they climbed toward him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?" He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them. "Should call Filch, I should, if something's a-creeping around unseen." Rosa had a sudden idea. "Peeves," she said, in a hoarse whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible." Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock.

He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs. "So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, Sir," he said greasily. "My mistake, my mistake - I didn't see you - of course I didn't, you're invisible - forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir." "I have business here, Peeves," croaked Rosa mentally thanking everygod that Luke taught her to do that, another reson why she loved him so much. "Stay away from this place tonight." "I will, sir, I most certainly will," said Peeves, rising up in the air again. "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you." And he scooted off "Brilliant, Rosa!" whispered Ron. A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor - and the door was already ajar. "Well, there you are," Rosa said quietly, "Snape's already got past Fluffy." Seeing the open door somehow seemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Underneath the cloak, Rosa turned to the other two. "If you want to go back, I won't blame you," she said. "You can take the cloak, I won't need it now." "Don't be stupid," said Ron. "We're coming," said Hermione. Rosa pushed the door open. As the door creaked, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog's noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn't see them. "What's that at its feet?" Hermione whispered. "Looks like a harp," said Ron. "Snape must have left it there." "It must wake up the moment you stop playing," said Rosa. "Well, here goes..."

"Heaven's gift to me just the way you are,

A new aged child from a distant star.

It feels so good just to be

So close to your love. You are heaven's gift to me.

You are so sweet and pure just the way you are.

Mama's precious jewel. Daddy's rising star.

There's so much in life for you to see.

And so much to be. You are Heaven's gift to me.

La la la la la la, la la la la la,

La la la la la la la, la la la la la la la,

La la la la la, la la la la,

La la la la la, la la la la la la la"

from the word the beast's eyes began to droop. Rosa hardly drew breath. Slowly, the dog's growls ceased - it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then it slumped to the ground, fast asleep. "Keep singing," Ron warned Rosa as they slipped out of the cloak and crept toward the trapdoor. They could feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads. "I think we'll be able to pull the door open," said Ron, peering over the dog's back. "Want to go first, Hermione?" "No, I don't!" "All right." Ron gritted his teeth and stepped carefully over the dog's legs. He bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and  
open. "What can you see?" Hermione said anxiously. "Nothing - just black - there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop." Rosa, who had started singing the song again, waved at Ron to get his attention and pointed at herself.

"You want to go first? Are you sure?" said Ron. "I don't know how deep this thing goes. Give the flute to Hermione so she can keep him asleep." Rosa stoped singing. In the few seconds' silence, the dog  
growled and twitched, but the moment Hermione began to sing, it fell back into its deep sleep. Rosa climbed over it and looked down through the trapdoor. There was no sign of the bottom. She lowered himself through the hole until she was hanging on by her fingertips. Then she looked up at Ron and said, "If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?" "Right," said Ron. "See you in a minute, I hope... And Rosa let go. Cold, damp air rushed past him as she fell down, down, down and - FLUMP. With a funny, muffled sort of thump he landed on something soft. She sat up and felt around, her eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though she was sitting on some sort of plant. "It's okay!" he called up to the light the size of a postage stamp, which was the open trapdoor, "it's a soft landing, you can jump!" Ron followed right away. He landed, sprawled next to Rosa. "What's this stuff?" were his first words. "Dunno, some sort of plant thing. I suppose it's here to break the fall. Come on, Hermione!" The distant singing stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped. She landed on Rosa's other side.

"We must be miles under the school , she said. "Lucky this plant thing's here, really," said Ron. "Lucky!" shrieked Hermione. "Look at you both!" She leapt up and struggled toward a damp wall. She had to struggle  
because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snakelike tendrils around her ankles. As for Rosa and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing. Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she watched in horror as her friends fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them. "Stop moving!" Hermione ordered them. "I know what this is - it's Devil's Snare!" "Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck. "Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" said Hermione. "Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!" Rosa gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around her chest. "Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare... what did Professor Sprout say? – it likes the dark and the damp "So light a fire!" Rosa choked. "Yes - of course - but there's no wood!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands. "HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?" "Oh, right!" said Hermione, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of the same bluebell flames she had used on Snape at the plant.

In a matter of seconds, they felt it loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unraveled itself from their bodies, and they were able to pull free. "Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione," said Rosa as she joined her by the wall, wiping sweat off her face. "Yeah," said Ron, "and lucky Rosa doesn't lose her head in a crisis - 'there's no wood,' honestly." "This way," said Rosa, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward. All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, and Rosa was reminded of Gringotts. With an unpleasant jolt of the heart, she remembered the dragons said to be guarding vaults in the wizards' bank. If they met a dragon, a fully-grown dragon - Norbert had been bad enough... "Can you hear something?" Ron whispered. Rosa listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up  
ahead.

"Do you think it's a ghost?" "I don't know... sounds like wings to me." "There's light ahead - I can see something moving." They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door. "Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" said Ron. "Probably," said Rosa. "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once... well, there's no other choice... I'll run." She took a deep breath, covered her face with her arms, and sprinted across the room. She expected to feel sharp beaks and claws tearing at her any second, but nothing happened. She reached the door untouched. She pulled the handle, but it was locked.  
The other two followed her. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge, not even when Hermione tried her Alohomora charm. "Now what?" said Ron. "These birds... they can't be here just for decoration," said Hermione.

They watched the birds soaring overhead, glittering – glittering? "They're not birds!" Rosa said suddenly. "They're keys! Winged keys - look carefully. So that must mean..." he looked around the chamber while  
the other two squinted up at the flock of keys. "... yes - look! Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!" "But there are hundreds of them!" Ron examined the lock on the door. "We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one - probably silver, like the handle." They each seized a broomstick and kicked off into the air, soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys. They grabbed and snatched, but the bewitched keys darted and dived so quickly it was almost impossible to catch one. Not for nothing, though, was Rosa the youngest Seeker in a century. She had a knack for spotting things other people didn't. After a minute's weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, she noticed a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole. "That one!" she called to the others. "That big one - there - no, there - with bright blue wings - the feathers are all crumpled on one side." Ron went speeding in the direction that Rosa was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and nearly fell off his broom. "We've got to close in on it!" Rosa called, not taking her eyes off the key with the damaged wing. "Ron, you come at it from above - Hermione, stay below and stop it from going down and I'll try and catch it. Right, NOW!"

Ron dived, Hermione rocketed upward, the key dodged them both, and Rosa streaked after it; it sped toward the wall, Rosa leaned forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. Ron and Hermione's cheers echoed around the high chamber. They landed quickly, and Rosa ran to the door, the key struggling in her hand. She rammed it into the lock and turned - it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice before Rosa grabed it and fixed its wings. "Ready?" Rosa asked the other two, her hand on the door handle. They nodded. She pulled the door open. The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all. But as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight. They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Rosa, Ron and Hermione shivered slightly - the towering white chessmen had no faces. "Now what do we do?" Rosa whispered.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Ron. "We've got to play our way across the room." Behind the white pieces they could see another door. "How?" said Hermione nervously. "I think," said Ron, "we're going to have to be chessmen." He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron. "Do we - er - have to join you to get across?" The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the other two. "This needs thinking about he said. I suppose we've got to take the place of three of the black pieces..." Rosa and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally he said, "Now, don't be offended or anything, but neither of you are that good at chess -" "We're not offended," said Rosa quickly. "Just tell us what to do." "Well, Rosa, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, You go next to him instead of that castle." "What about you?" "I'm going to be a knight," said Ron.

The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop, and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving three empty squares that Rosa, Ron, and Hermione took. "White always plays first in chess," said Ron, peering across the board. "Yes... look..." A white pawn had moved forward two squares. Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Rosa's knees were trembling. What if they lost? "Rosa - move diagonally four squares to the right." Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown. "Had to let that happen," said Ron, looking shaken. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on." Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed in time that Rosa and Hermione were in danger. He himself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

"We're nearly there," he muttered suddenly. "Let me think let me think..." The white queen turned her blank face toward him. "Yes..." said Ron softly, "It's the only way... I've got to be taken." "NOF Rosa and Hermione shouted. "That's chess!" snapped Ron. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and she'll take me - that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Rosa!" "But -" "Do you want to stop Snape or not?" "Ron -" "Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!" There was no alternative. "Ready?" Ron called, his face pale but determined. "Here I go - now, don't hang around once you've won." He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor - Hermione screamed but stayed on her square - the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he'd been knocked out. Shaking, Rosa moved three spaces to the left. The white king took off his crown and threw it at Rosa's feet. They had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Ron, Rosa and Hermione charged through the door and up the next passageway.

"What if he's -?" "He'll be all right," said Rosa, trying to convince himself. "What do you reckon is next?" "We've had Sprout's, that was the Devil's Snare; Flitwick must've put charms on the keys; McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive; that leaves Quirrell's spell, and Snape's." They had reached another door. "All right?" Rosa whispered. "Go on." Rosa pushed it open. A disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making both of them pull their robes up over their noses. Eyes watering, they saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head. "I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," Rosa whispered as they stepped carefully over one of its massive legs. "Come on, I can't breathe." She pulled open the next door, both of them hardly daring to look at what came next - but there was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

"Snape's," said Rosa. "What do we have to do?" They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. They were trapped. "Look!" Hermione seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Rosa looked over her shoulder to read it:

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,  
Two of us will help you, which ever you would find,  
One among us seven will let you move ahead,  
Another will transport the drinker back instead,  
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,  
Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line.  
Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,  
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:  
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide  
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;  
Second, different are those who stand at either end,  
But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;  
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,  
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;  
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right  
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.

Hermione let out a great sigh and Rosa, amazed, saw that she was smiling, the very last thing he felt like doing.  
"Brilliant," said Hermione. "This isn't magic - it's logic - a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever." "But so will we, won't we?" "Of course not," said Hermione. "Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple." "But how do we know which to drink?" "Give me a minute." Hermione read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. At last, she clapped her hands. "Got it," she said. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire - toward the Stone." Rosa looked at the tiny bottle. "There's only enough there for one of us," she said. "That's hardly one swallow." They looked at each other.

"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?" Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. "You drink that," said Rosa. "No, listen, get back and get Ron. Grab brooms from the flying- key room, they'll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy - go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I'm no match for him, really." "But Rosa - what if You-Know-Who's with him?" "Well - I was lucky once, wasn't I?" said Rosa, pointing at her scar. "I might get lucky again." Hermione's lip trembled, and she suddenly dashed at Rosa and threw her  
arms around her. "Hermione!" "Rosa - you're a great witch, you know." "I'm not as good as you," said Rosa, very embarrassed, as she let go of her. "Me!" said Hermione. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery and - oh Rosa - be careful!" "You drink first," said Rosa. "You are sure which is which, aren't you?" "Positive," said Hermione. She took a long drink from the round bottle  
at the end, and shuddered. "It's not poison?" said Rosa anxiously. "No - but it's like ice." "Quick, go, before it wears off." "Good luck - take care." "GO!"

Hermione turned and walked straight through the purple fire. Rosa took a deep breath and picked up the smallest bottle. She turned to face the black flames and let the mist around her outfit drop. "Here I come," he said, and he drained the little bottle in one gulp. It was indeed as though ice was flooding her body. She put the bottle down and walked forward; she braced herself, saw the black flames licking her body, but couldn't feel them - for a moment he could see nothing but dark fire - then he was on the other side, in the last chamber. There was already someone there - but it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Voldemort.


	14. The Man With Two Faces

**I do not own Rosa Potter, nor Percy Jackson they belong to J.K Rowling and Rick Riordan**

**Rosalinda Potter, Chapter Fourteen – The Man With Two Faces**

* * *

It was Quirrell. "You!" gasped Rosa. Quirrell smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all. "Me," he said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter." "But I thought - Snape -" "Severus?" Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?" Rosa couldn't take it in. This couldn't be true, it couldn't but somehow it made sense. "But Snape tried to kill me!" "No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd  
have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a countercurse, trying to save you." "Snape was trying to save me?" "Of course," said Quirrell coolly.

"Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it  
again. Funny, really... he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular... and what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight." Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Rosa. "You're too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone." "You let the troll in?" "Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls - you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off - and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly.

"Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror. It was only then that Rosa realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised. "This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this... but he's in London... I'll be far away by the time he gets back..."  
All Rosa could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror. "I saw you and Snape in the forest -" she blurted out. "Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me - as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side..." Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into  
it. "I see the Stone... I'm presenting it to my master... but where is it?" Rosa struggled against the ropes binding her, but they didn't give. She had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror. "But Snape always seemed to hate me so much." "Oh, he does," said Quirrell casually, "heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."

"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing - I thought Snape was threatening you..." For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face. "Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions - he is a great wizard and I am weak -" "You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Rosa gasped. "He is with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly. "I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it... Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me. "Quirrell shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He  
punished me... decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me..." Quirrell's voice trailed away. Rosa was remembering her trip to Diagon Alley -how could she have been so stupid? She'd seen Quirrell there that very day, shaken hands with him in the Leaky Cauldron. Quirrell cursed under his breath. "I don't understand... is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?" Rosa's mind was racing.

What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, she thought, is to find the Stone before Quirrell does. So if I look in the mirror, I should see myself finding it - which means I'll see where it's hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realizing what I'm up to? She tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around her ankles were too tight: she tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored her. He was still talking to himself. "What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!" And to Rosa's horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself "Use the girl... Use the girl..." Quirrell rounded on Rosa. "Yes - Potter - come here." He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Rosa fell off. Rosa got slowly to her feet. "Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see." Rosa walked toward him. I must lie, she thought desperately. I must look and lie about what I see, that's all.

Quirrell moved close behind her. Rosa breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban. She closed her eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again.  
She saw her reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at her. It put its hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the Stone back in its pocket - and as it did so, Rosa felt something heavy drop into her real pocket. Somehow - incredibly - she'd gotten the Stone. "Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"  
Rosa screwed up her courage. "I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," she invented lying with ease. "I've won the house cup for Gryffindor." Quirrell cursed again. "Get out of the way," he said. As Rosa moved aside, she felt the Sorcerer's Stone against her leg. Dare she make a break for it? But she hadn't walked seven paces before a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips.

"She lies... She lies..." "Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did  
you just see?" The high voice spoke again. "Let me speak to her... face-to-face..." "Master, you are not strong enough!" "I have strength enough... for this..." Rosa felt as if Devil's Snare was rooting her to the spot. She couldn't move a muscle. Petrified, she watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. What was going on? The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot. Rosa would have screamed, but she couldn't make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Rosa had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake. "Rosalinda Potter..." it whispered. Rosa tried to take a step backward but her legs wouldn't move. "See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapour ... I have form only when I can share another's body... but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds... Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks... you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own... Now... why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?" So he knew. The feeling suddenly surged back into Rosa's legs. She stumbled backward.

"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better save your own life and join me... or you'll meet the same end as your parents... They died begging me for mercy..." "LIAR!" Rosa shouted suddenly knowing her farther and her sister wouldn't beg for mercy at all. Quirrell was walking backward at her, so that Voldemort could still see her. The evil face was now smiling. "How touching..." it always value bravery... Yes, girl, your parents were brave... I killed your father first; and he put up a courageous fight... but your mother needn't have died... she was trying to protect you... Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain." "NEVER!" Rosa sprang toward the flame door, but Voldemort screamed "SEIZE HER!" and the next second, Rosa felt Quirrell's hand close on her wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across Rosa's scar much to Rosa's shock; her head felt as though it was about to split in two; she yelled, struggling with all her might, and to her surprise, Quirrell let go of her. The pain in her head lessened - she looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers - they were blistering  
before her eyes.

"Seize her! SEIZE HER!" shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Rosa clean off her feet' landing on top of her, both hands around Rosa's neck - Rosa's scar was almost blinding her with pain, yet she could see Quirrell howling in agony. "Master, I cannot hold her - my hands - my hands!" And Quirrell, though pinning Rosa to the ground with his knees, let go of her neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms - Rosa could see they looked burned, raw, red, and shiny. "Then kill her, fool, and be done!" screeched Voldemort. Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Rosa, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face - "AAAARGH!" Quirrell rolled off her, his face blistering, too, and then Rosa knew: Quirrell couldn't touch her bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain - her only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough  
pain to stop him from doing a curse. Rosa jumped to her feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as she could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Rosa off – the pain in Rosa's head was building - she couldn't see - she could only hear Quirrell's terrible shrieks and Voldemort's yells of, "KILL HER! KILL HER!" and other voices, maybe in Rosa's own head, crying, "Rosa! Rosa!"  
She felt Quirrell's arm wrenched from her grasp, knew all was lost, and  
fell into blackness, down ... down... down...

Something gold was glinting just above her. The Snitch! She tried to catch it, but her arms were too heavy. She blinked. It wasn't the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange. She blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above her. "Good afternoon, Rosie," said Dumbledore. Rosa stared at him. Then she remembered: "Al! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Al, quick -" "Calm yourself, dear sister, you are a little behind the times," said Dumbledore. "Quirrell does not have the Stone." "Then who does? Al, I -" "Rosa, please relax, or Poppy will have me thrown out. Rosa swallowed and looked around her. She realized she must be in the hospital wing. She was lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to her was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop. "Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore, beaming. "What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Fred and George were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Poppy, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it." "How long have I been in here?" "Three days. Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried."

"But sit, the Stone I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although you were doing very well on your own, I must say. "You got there? You got Hermione's owl?" "We must have crossed in mid-air. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you." "It was you." "I feared I might be too late."  
"You nearly were, I couldn't have kept him off the Stone much longer -" "Not the Stone, Ro, you - the effort involved nearly killed you. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed." "Destroyed?" said Rosa blankly. "But your friend - Nicolas Flamel -"  
"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. "You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best." "But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?" "Not really Nicolas Flamel is our brother and God of Alchemy and Perenelle was made Immortal so she could stay with Nicolas because there love was true." Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on Rosa's face.

"Besides to one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but if Nicolas and Perenelle were mortal, it would be like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone even if it was fake was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all - the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them." Rosa lay there, lost for words. Dumbledore hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling. "Al?" said Rosa. "I've been thinking... even if the Stone's gone and it was a fake, Vol-, I mean, You-Know- Who -" "Call him Voldemort, Rosa. Always use the proper name for things. Fear  
of a name increases fear of the thing itself and he isn't a monster any way." "Yes, Al. Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?" "No, Rosa, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share... not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Rosa, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time - and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."

Rosa nodded, but stopped quickly, because it made her head hurt. Then she said, "Al, there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me... things I want to know the truth about..."  
"The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie." "Well... Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?" Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time. "Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day... put it from your mind for now, Rosa. When you are older... I know you hate to hear this... when you are ready, you will know." And Rosa knew it would be no good to argue thought she wanted to ask. "But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"  
"Our Sister died to save you then thanks to mother became a goddess. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your sister's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell,  
full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good." Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill, which gave Rosa time to dry her eyes on the sheet.

When she had found her voice again, Rosa said, "And the invisibility cloak - do you know who sent it to me?" "Ah - your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Useful things... your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here." "And there's something else..." "Fire away." "Quirrell said Snape -" "Professor Snape, Rosa." "Yes, him - Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?" "Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Draco's act. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive." "What?" "He saved his life." "What?" "Yes..." said Dumbledore dreamily. "Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear being in your father's debt... I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace..." Rosa tried to understand this but it made her head pound, so she  
stopped.

"And sir, there's one more thing..." "Just the one?" "How did I get the Stone out of the mirror?" "Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant Ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone - find it, but not use it - would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes... Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come  
across a vomit flavoured one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them - but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?" He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and said, "Alas! Ear wax!" Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was a nice woman, but very strict.

"Just five minutes please Poppy," Rosa pleaded. "Absolutely not." "You let my brother in..." "Well, of course, that was the headmaster, quite different. You need rest." "I am resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, go on, Poppy your just like Will..." "Oh, very well," she said. "But five minutes only and he is my brother." And she let Ron and Hermione in. "Rosa!" Hermione looked ready to fling her arms around him again, but Rosa was glad she held herself in as her head was still very sore. "Oh, Rosa, we were sure you were going to - Dumbledore was so worried -" "The whole school's talking about it," said Ron. "What really happened?" It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumours. Rosa told them everything: Quirrell; the mirror; the Stone; and Voldemort. Ron and Hermione were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places, and when Rosa told them what was under Quirrell's turban, Hermione screamed out loud. "So the Stone's gone?" said Ron finally. "Flamel's just going to die?" "That's what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that - what was it? - 'to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. "I always said he was off his rocker," said Ron, looking quite impressed at how crazy his hero was. "So what happened to you two?" said Rosa. "Well, I got back all right," said Hermione. "I brought Ron round - that took a while - and we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall - he already knew – he just said, 'Rosa's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the third floor." "D'you think he meant you to do it?" said Ron. "Sending you your father's cloak and everything?"

"Well," Hermione exploded, "if he did - I mean to say that's terrible - you could have been killed." "No, it isn't," said Rosa thoughtfully while knowing he knew she could take care of herself. "He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could..." "Yeah, Dumbledore's off his rocker, all right," said Ron proudly. "Listen, you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course - you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you - but  
the food will be good." At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over. "You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT" she said firmly.

After a good night's sleep, Rosa felt nearly back to normal. I want to go to the feast," she told Madam Pomfrey as she straightened her many candy boxes which she was gonna save so she could share with Luke. I can, can't I?" "Albus says you are to be allowed to go," she said stiffily, as though in her opinion he didn't realize how risky feasts could be. "And you have another visitor." "Oh, good," said Rosa. "Who is it?" Hagrid sidled through the door as he spoke. As usual when he was  
indoors, Hagrid looked too big to be allowed. He sat down next to Rosa, took one look at her, and burst into tears. "It's - all - my - ruddy - fault!" he sobbed, his face in his hands. I told the evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I told him! It was the only thing he didn't know, an' I told him! Yeh could've died! All fer a dragon egg! I'll never drink again! I should be chucked out an' made ter live as a Muggle!" "Hagrid!" said Rosa, shocked to see Hagrid shaking with grief and remorse, great tears leaking down into his beard. "Hagrid, he'd have found out somehow, this is Voldemort we're talking about, he'd have found out even if you hadn't told him."

"Yeh could've died!" sobbed Hagrid. "An' don' say the name!" "VOLDEMORT!" Rosa bellowed, and Hagrid was so shocked, he stopped crying. "I've met him and I'm calling him by his name. Please cheer up, Hagrid, we saved the Stone, it's gone, he can't use it. Have a Chocolate Frog, I've got loads..." Hagrid wiped his nose on the back of his hand and said, "That reminds me. I've got yeh a present." "It's not a stoat sandwich, is it?" said Rosa anxiously, and at last Hagrid gave a weak chuckle. "Nah. Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix it. 'Course, he shoulda sacked me instead - anyway, got yeh this..." It seemed to be a handsome, leather-covered book. Rosa opened it curiously. It was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at her from every page were her father and her sister Lily and as she turned the page a photo of her father and mother. "Sent owls off ter all yer parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos... knew yeh didn' have any... d'yeh like it?" Rosa couldn't speak, but Hagrid understood. Rosa made her way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night.

She had been held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing about, insisting on giving her one last check-up, so the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in the Slytherin colours of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table. When Rosa walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once. She slipped into a seat between Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at her. Fortunately, Dumbledore arrived moments later. The babble died away. "Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts... "Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy- two."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Rosa could see Draco Malfoy banging his goblet on the table. It would be sickening sight if they were not friends. "Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account." The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little. "Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes... "First - to Mr. Ronald Weasley..." Ron went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with a bad sunburn. "...for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points." Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Percy could be heard telling the other prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!"  
At last there was silence again. "Second - to Miss Hermione Granger... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points." Hermione buried her face in her arms; Rosa strongly suspected she had burst into tears and because of the cheers she didn't know if she really had.

Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves - they were a hundred points up. "Third - to Miss Rosalinda Potter..." said Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points." The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points - exactly the same as Slytherin. They had tied for the house cup – if only Dumbledore had given Rosa just one more point. Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent. "There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom." Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some  
sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Rosa, Ron, and Hermione stood up to yell and cheer as Neville, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. He had never won so much as a point for Gryffindor before. Rosa, still cheering, nudged Ron in the ribs and pointed at Malfoy, who couldn't have looked more stunned and horrified if he'd just had the Body-Bind Curse put on him.

"Which means, Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, for even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin, "we need a little change of decoration." He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall's hand, with a horrible, forced smile. He caught Rosa's eye and Rosa knew at once that Snape's feelings toward him hadn't changed one jot. This didn't worry Rosa. It seemed as though life would be back to normal next year, or as normal as it ever was at Hogwarts. It was one of the best evenings of Rosa's life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls... she would never, ever forget tonight. Rosa had almost forgotten that the exam results were still to come, but come they did. To their great surprise, both she and Ron passed with good marks; Hermione, of course, had the best grades of the first years. Even Neville scraped through, his good Herbology mark making up for his abysmal Potions one. They had hoped that Goyle, who was almost as stupid as he was mean, might be thrown out, but he had passed, too. It was a shame, but as Ron said, you couldn't have everything in life.

And suddenly, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks were packed, Neville's toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets; notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays ("I always hope they'll forget to give us these," said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station. It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn't attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.

"You must come and stay this summer," said Ron, "both of you - I'll send you an owl." "Thanks," said Rosa, "I'll try." People jostled them as they moved forward toward the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called: "Bye, Rosa!" "See you, Potter!" "Still famous," said Ron, grinning at her. "Not where I'm going, I promise you," said Rosa knowing how camp was. She, Ron, and Hermione passed through the gateway together. "There she is, Mom, there she is, look!" It was Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, but she wasn't pointing at Ron. "Rosalinda Potter!" she squealed. "Look, Mom! I can see –""Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point." Mrs. Weasley smiled down at them. "Busy year?" she said. "Very," said Rosa. "Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley." "Oh, it was nothing, dear." "Ready, are you Little Moon?" It was her mother. Behind her stood her Aunt Petunia who looked happy at the very sight of Rosa. "You must be Rosa's family!" said Mrs. Weasley. "Yes," said Uncle Vernon. "Hurry up, Little Moon, we haven't got all day I gotta pick something up." She walked away. Rosa hung back for a last word with Ron and Hermione. "See you over the summer, then." "Hope you have a good holiday," said Hermione. "Oh, I will," said Rosa, with a grin that was spreading over her face. "I'm going to have a lot of fun with my friends this summer..."


	15. Not A Update Sorry

**Sorry Everyone but I'm Still Working on The Next Chapter, But I Posted a Poll, Please Post. I Will Delete This Post After I Post The Next Chapter.**


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